'But what, Salome?'
'My dear, I don't know.'
In the meantime Beaple Yeo was adjusting the telescope, peering through it, and pressing on Miss Durham to look just at one point. 'Ah! quick—before they move.' Then asking if the sight were right, peering again, wiping the lens with his silk handkerchief, and finally when either the chamois had disappeared, or the focus could not be got right, abandoning the telescope altogether to the three girls.
'One, two, three churches here,' said Mr. Yeo. 'And one a pilgrimage chapel. You have perhaps seen some friars in snuff-coloured habits prowling about. Shocking, is it not? Signor Caprili—you have heard of the extraordinary efforts he is making to spread the Truth, the naked Truth—I mean, I beg pardon, the unvarnished Truth. Are you interested in missionary enterprise?'
'Not in the least. Superstition is charmingly picturesque. How gracefully those towers and spires stand out against the mountains! And that chapel perched on a rock. I would not have it abolished for the world. We have not such things in America—we come to the Old World to see them.'
'Then, perhaps dogs,' said Yeo. 'You are interested in Mount St. Bernard dogs, and would, no doubt, like to introduce one across the ocean to your fellow-countrywomen. Magnificent creatures, and so noble in character! How their heroism, their self-sacrifice, their generosity, stand out in contrast with our petty human vices! Verily I think we might with advantage study the dog. I do not mind confiding to you, madam, that a colossal scheme is on foot for the establishment of an emporium of these noble creatures, and that money only is needed to float it.'
'I assure you,' said Miss Durham, 'I am not in the least interested in dogs.'
'Not as a speculation?'
'Not even as a speculation.
Beaple Yeo was silenced.