interested eyes, into
the Lodge and up the stairs to their rooms, where Ruth directed the men
in placing the big trunk and the bags and hospitably explained the
geography of the suite.

"My room's on that side and Dad's and Mother's is just across--and we
all have to use this one bath--stupid, isn't it, but Dad is hardly ever
here and there's running water in the rooms. You'll survive, won't you?"

Hastily Maria Angelina assured her that she would.

Glimpsing the white-tiled splendors of this bath she wondered how Ruth
would survive the tin tub, set absurdly in a red plush room of the
Palazzo. . . .

"Now you know your way about," the American girl rattled on, her tone
negligent, her eyes colored with a little warmer interest as her glance
swept her foreign little cousin. "Frightfully hot, wasn't it? I'll clear
out so you can pop into the tub. You'll just have time before luncheon,"
she assured her and was off.

The next instant, from closed doors beyond, her voice rose in unguarded
exclamation.

"Oh, you baby doll! Mother, did you ever----"

The voices sank from hearing and Maria Angelina was left with the
feeling that a baby doll was not a desirable being in America. This
Cousin Ruth intimidated her and her breezy indifference and lack of
affectionate interest shot the visitor with the troubled suspicion that
her own presence was entirely superfluous to her cousin's scheme of
things. She felt more at home with the elders.

Uncertainly she crossed to her big trunk and stood looking down on the
bold labels.

How long since she and Mamma had packed it, with dear Julietta smoothing
the folds in place! And how far away they all were. . . . It was not the
old Palazzo now that was unreal--it was this new, bright world and all
the strange faces.

The chintz-decked room with its view of alien mountains seemed suddenly
remote and lonely.

Her hands shook a little as she unpacked a tray of pretty dresses and
laid them carefully across the bed. . . . Unconsciously she had
anticipated a warmer welcome from this young cousin. . . . She winked
away the tears that threatened to stain the bright ribbons, and stole
into the splendor of the white bathroom, marveling at its luxurious
contrast to the logs without.

The water refreshed her. She felt more cheerful, and when she came to a
choice of frocks, decidedly a new current of interest was stealing
through life again.

First impressions were so terribly important! She