that they should come back in the autumn, when he should be
comparatively free: then there would be a margin and they might all take
their time. At present, before long--by the time he should be ready--the
question of the pretty one's leaving Paris for the summer would be sure
to rise, and that would be a tiresome interruption. The pretty one
clearly liked Paris, she had no plans for the autumn and only wanted a
reason to come back about the twentieth of September. Mr. Waterlow
remarked humorously that she evidently bossed the shop. Meanwhile,
before starting for Spain, he would see her as often as possible--his
eye would take possession of her.

His companion envied his eye, even expressed jealousy of his eye. It was
perhaps as a step towards establishing his right to jealousy that Mr.
Probert left a card upon the Miss Dossons at the Hotel de l'Univers et
de Cheltenham, having first ascertained that such a proceeding would
not, by the young American sisters, be regarded as an unwarrantable
liberty. Gaston Probert was an American who had never been in America
and was obliged to take counsel on such an emergency as that. He knew
that in Paris young men didn't call at hotels on blameless maids, but he
also knew that blameless maids, unattended by a parent, didn't visit
young men in studios; and he had no guide, no light he could trust--none
save the wisdom of his friend Waterlow, which was for the most part
communicated to him in a derisive and misleading form. Waterlow, who was
after all himself an ornament of the French, and the very French,
school, jeered at the other's want of native instinct, at the way he
never knew by which end to take hold of a compatriot. Poor Probert was
obliged to confess to his terrible paucity of practice, and that in the
great medley of aliens and brothers--and even more of sisters--he
couldn't tell which was which. He would have had a country and
countrymen, to say nothing of countrywomen, if he could; but that matter