then he smacked his
whip and drove rapidly away. They were aware of nothing outside but the
starlit winter morning in unknown streets, till they plunged at last
under an archway and drew up at a sort of lodge door, from which issued
an example of the universal gold-cap-banded continental hotel _portier_,
so like all others in Europe that it seemed idle for him to be leading
an individual existence. He took the colonel's passport and summoned a
waiter, who went bowing before them up a staircase more or less
grandiose, and led them to a pleasant chamber, whither he sent directly
a woman servant. She bade them a hearty good morning in her tongue, and,
kneeling down before the tall porcelain stove, kindled from her apronful
of blocks and sticks a fire that soon penetrated the travellers with a
rich comfort. It was of course too early yet to think of breakfast, but
it was fortunately not too late to think of sleep. They were both very
tired, and it was almost noon when they woke. The colonel had the fire
rekindled, and he ordered breakfast to be served them in their room.
"Beefsteak and coffee--here!" he said, pointing to the table; and as he
made Mrs. Kenton snug near the stove he expatiated in her own terms upon
the perfect loveliness of the whole affair, and the touch of nature that
made coffee and beefsteak the same in every language. It seemed that the
Kaiserin Elisabeth knew how to serve such a breakfast in faultless
taste; and they sat long over it, in that sense of sovereign
satisfaction which beefsteak and coffee in your own room can best give.
At last the colonel rose briskly and announced the order of the day.
They were to go here, they were to stop there; they were to see this,
they were to do that.

"Nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Kenton. "I am not going out at all
to-day. It's too cold; and if we are to push on to Trieste to-morrow, I
shall need the whole day to get a little rested. Besides, I have some
jobs of mending to do that can't be put off any longer."

The colonel listened with an air of joyous admiration. "Bessie," said
he, "this is inspiration. _I_ don't want to see their old town; and I
shall ask nothing better than to spend the day with you here at our own
fireside. You can sew, and I--I'll _read_ to you, Bessie!" This was a
little too gross; even Mrs. Kenton laughed at this, the act of reading
being so abhorrent to Colonel Kenton's active temperament that he was
notorious for his avoidance of all