the lakes of Como, Colico, and Lecco; and Bellaggio is the spot at
which their waters join each other. I had half made up my mind to
sleep there one night on my road into Italy, and now, on hearing their
purpose, I declared that such was my intention.

"How very pleasant," said Mrs. Greene. "It will be quite delightful
to have some one to show us how to settle ourselves, for really--"

"My dear, I'm sure you can't say that you ever have much trouble."

"And who does then, Mr. Greene? I am sure Sophonisba does not do much
to help me."

"You won't let me," said Sophonisba, whose name I had not before
heard. Her papa had called her Sophy in the yard of the inn.
Sophonisba Greene! Sophonisba Robinson did not sound so badly in my
ears, and I confess that I had tried the names together. Her papa had
mentioned to me that he had no other child, and had mentioned also
that he had made his fortune.

And then there was a little family contest as to the amount of
travelling labour which fell to the lot of each of the party, during
which I retired to one of the windows of the big front room in which
we were sitting. And how much of this labour there is incidental to a
tourist's pursuits! And how often these little contests do arise upon
a journey! Who has ever travelled and not known them? I had taken up
such a position at the window as might, I thought, have removed me out
of hearing; but nevertheless from time to time a word would catch my
ear about that precious box. "I have never taken MY eyes off it since
I left England," said Mrs. Greene, speaking quick, and with a