ouriers and portiers turn the
flashlights on Europe for me, as if it were a burlesque show."

"Now, that's just what I like!" said Perry. "I always go to the houses
where the royalties put up. I like to order better dishes and give
bigger tips than they do. They don't know Jem Perry from Adam, but
it's my way of waving the American flag."

"I am afraid we have no such patriotic motive," said Clara. "My girls
seem to care for nothing now but art. We have made this little inn our
headquarters in the Tyrol chiefly out of love for the old church
yonder."

Mr. Perry glanced contemptuously across the Platz at the frowning gray
building, and sat down with his back to it.

"Art, eh? Well, I've no doubt I could soon catch on to Art, if I
turned my mind that way. It pays, too,--Art. Not the fellows who
paint, but the connoisseurs. There's Miller from our town. He was a
drummer for a candy firm. Had an eye for color. Well, he buys
pictures now for Americans who want galleries in their houses. He
bought his whole collection for Stout--the great dealer in hams. Why,
Miller can tell the money value within five dollars, at sight, of any
picture in Europe. He's safe, too. Never invests in pictures that
aren't sure to go up in price. Getting rich! And began as a candy
drummer! No, ma'am! Art's no mystery. I've never taken it up myself.
Europe is sheer pleasure to me. I get the best out of it. I know
where to lodge well, and I can tell you where the famous plats are
cooked, and I have my coats built by Toole. The house pays me a salary
which justifies me in humoring my little follies," stroking his red
beard complacently.

Lucy's chubby face and steady blue eyes were turned on him
thoughtfully, and presently, when they sauntered down the windy street
together, he talked and she still silently watched him.

"Miss Precision is weighing him in the balance," said Jean, laughing,
as she poured out more black coffee. "With all of her soft ways Lucy
is shrewd. She knows quite well why he races across the Atlantic, and
why Prince Wolfburgh has backed away from us and charged on us again
all summer. She is cool. She is measuring poor Perry's qualifications
for a husband now just as she would materials for a cake. A neat
little inventory. So much energy, so much honest kindness--so much
vulgarity. I couldn't do that. If ever a man wants to marry me, I'll
fly to him or away from him, as quick as the steel need