re.' 'It is Baedeker,' said the gentleman. This
was terrible; and the patron flew to correct the little mistake about
the wine, with a thousand apologies; but the monsieur would not have
his money back, and you saw him drive away. Now, it is possible that
our hotel will no longer keep its star, and that would be no less than
a catastrophe."

Evidently, what his cherished peacock-feather is to a Chinese
mandarin, that is a Baedeker star to a hotel-keeper; and the Boy and I
were so tickled at the little tragi-comedy that we forgot, as we
walked on side by side, that we had been upon official terms only.

Again we were struck by the extraordinary individuality which
differentiates one valley or mountain-pass from another. We had seen
nothing like this; nothing, perhaps, so purely beautiful. One could
not imagine that winter snow and ice could still the pulse of summer
here. It was as if we wandered from one green glade to another in
fairyland, where all the little people who owned the magic land had
turned themselves hurriedly into strangely delicate ferns and
bluebells to watch us, laughing, as we went by.

The village of Trient lay in deep shadow when we reached it, and found
the others waiting for us in the carriage in front of the chief hotel;
but there was no gloom in the shadow; it was only a deeper shade of
green, with a hint of transparent blue streaked across it. Another
remote, dream-village on the long list of places where I really
_must_ stay for a lazy summer month--when I have time! The list was
growing long now, almost worryingly long, and the Boy felt it so, too,
for he also had a list, and strange to say, it was much the same as
mine.

We had tea, and were vaguely surprised to see a number of people of
our own kind, most of them English and American, engaged in the same
occupation, and evidently at home in the place. Trient was on their
list as well as ours, and now, if they liked, they could cross it off,
and begin with the next place.

The Contessa thought the Boy looked tired, and urged him to drive
again, but though his manner was still flirtatious he found an excuse
to keep to his feet. He was not really tired, not a bit; how could one
be tired in so much beauty? The poor horses were fagged though, for
the carriage was heavy; he would not add to its weight.

"You _are_ getting rather white about the gills," I said to him when
the driving party had once more left us behind. "Why didn't you take