“Were you born in these countries?” I asked of Aurora Church.
“Oh no—I came to Europe a small child. But I remember America a little, and it seems delightful.”
“Wait till you see it again. It’s just too lovely,” said Miss Ruck.
“The grandest country in all the world,” I added.
Miss Ruck began to toss her head. “Come away, my dear. If there’s a creature I despise it’s a man who tries to say funny things about his own country.”
But Aurora lingered while she all appealingly put it to me. “Don’t you think one can be tired of Europe?”
“Well—as one may be tired of life.”
“Tired of the life?” cried Miss Ruck. “Father was tired of it after three weeks.”
“I’ve been here sixteen years,” her friend went on, looking at me as for some charming intelligence. “It used to be for my education. I don’t know what it’s for now.”
“She’s beautifully educated,” Miss Ruck guaranteed. “She knows four languages.”