and Salzburg, perhaps--"

"That's just what I was thinking," said Jimmie. "You're a good old sort.
You're as square as a man."

At this, I positively gurgled with delight, for it is not once in a
million--no, not once in ten million years that Jimmie says anything
decent about me to my face. I sometimes hear rumours of approving
remarks that he makes behind my back, but I never have been able to run
any of them to earth.

"If Ischl is a royal country-seat," said Jimmie, "I'll bet you a '_blaue
cravatte_' for yourself against a '_blaue cravatte_' for myself--both to
come from Charvet's--that Bee will know all about it."

"You can't bet with me on that because I know I'd lose. I'll bet that
they both know all about it. Let's ask them."

"Ever hear of Ischl, Bee?" said Jimmie, as Bee appeared as smartly got
up as if she were in New Bond Street.

"Did I ever hear of Ischl?" repeated Bee, in surprise. "Why, certainly.
Ischl is where Emperor Franz Josef has his summer home. He is there now
with his entire suite, and next Wednesday is his birthday."

"Say 'geburt-day,' Bee," I pleaded. Nobody paid any attention. Jimmie
looked meekly at Bee.

"Have you decided on a hotel there?" he asked, ironically. But Bee
flinched not.

"There are two good ones--the 'Kaiserin Elisabeth' and the 'Goldenes
Kreuz.' It will probably be very crowded, for they always celebrate the
Emperor's birthday."

Jimmie and I looked at each other helplessly. She knew all about Ischl,
and had intended to steer the whole four of us there, while Jimmie and I
had just heard of it, and were planning to give her a nice little
surprise!

Jimmie said nothing, but took his hat and went out to telegraph for
rooms.

"I'm glad I didn't bet with you, Jimmie," I whispered as he passed me.

It is the merest suspicion of a journey from Salzburg to Ischl, but it
consumes several hours, because every inch of the country on both sides
of the car is worth looking at. The little train creeps along now at the
foot of a mountain, now at the edge of a lake, and it is such a vision
of loveliness that even those unfeeling persons who "don't care for
scenery" would be roused from their lethargy by the gentle seductiveness
of its beauty. Ischl appears when you are least looking for it, tucked
in the hollow of a mountain's arm as lovingly as ever a baby was
cradled.

Our rooms at the Goldenes Kreuz had a wide balcony where our breakfasts
were served, and commanded no