e a lady."

"Indeed I am," said Lucy, coloring up. "My papa is a gentleman. And
see how many books we have, and how much we have to learn! French, and
music, and sums, and grammar, and history, and geography."

"I WILL not be a Frank! No, no! I will not learn," said the
alarmed Amina on hearing this catalogue poured forth.

"Geography is very nice," said Lucy; "here are our maps. I will
show you where you live. This is Constantinople."

"I live at Stamboul," said Amina, scornfully.

"There is Stamboul in little letters below--look."

"That Stamboul! The Frank girl is false; Stamboul is a large, large,
beautiful place; not a little black speck. I can see it from my
lattice. White houses and mosques in the sun, and the blue Golden
Horn, with the little vessels gliding along."

Before Lucy could explain, the door opened, and one of her brothers
put in his head. At once Amina began to scream and roll herself in
the window curtain. "A man in the harem! Oh! oh! oh! Were there
no slippers at the door?" And her screaming awoke Lucy, who found
herself at her Uncle Joe's again.

CHAPTER XI.

SWITZERLAND.

"I liked the mountain girl best of all," thought Lucy. "I wonder
whether I shall ever get among the mountains again. There's a
great stick in the corner that Uncle Joe calls his alpenstock.
I'll go and read the names upon it. They are the names of all
the mountains where he has used it."

She read Mount Blanc, Mount Cenis, the Wengern, and so on; and of
course as she read and sung them over to herself, they lulled her
off into her wonderful dreams, and brought her this time into a
meadow, steep and sloping, but full of flowers, the loveliest
flowers, of all kinds, growing among the long grass that waved
over them. The fresh, clear air was so delicious that she almost
hoped she was back in her dear Tyrol; but the hills were not the
same. She saw upon the slope quantities of cows, goats, and sheep,
feeding just as on the Tyrolese Alps; but beyond was a dark row of
pines, and above, in the sky as it were, rose all round great sharp
points--like clouds for their whiteness, but not in their straight,
jagged outlines. And here and there the deep gray clefts between
seemed to spread into white rivers, or over the ruddy purple of the
half-distance came sharp white lines darting downwards.

As she sat up in the grass and looked about her, a bark startled
her. A dog began to growl, bark, and d