“I guess she didn’t know I was there. Sam ran up-stairs an’ back, an’ then we turned into that splendid parlor o’ his an’ set down. Purty soon Liz an’ her mother swung in an’ smiled very pleasant an’ shook hands an’ asked how was my family, etc., an’ went right on talkin’. I saw they didn’t ask for the purpose of gettin’ information. Liz was dressed to kill an’ purty as a picture—cheeks red as a rooster’s comb an’ waist like a hornet’s. The cover was off her show-case, an’ there was a diamond sunburst in the middle of it, an’ the jewels were surrounded by charms to which I am not wholly insensible even now.
“‘I wanted ye to tell Mr. Potter about yer travels,’ says Sam.
“Lizzie smiled an’ looked out o’ the window a minute an’ fetched a sigh an’ struck out, lookin’ like Deacon Bristow the day he give ten dollars to the church. She told about the cities an’ the folks an’ the weather in that queer, English way she had o’ talkin’.
“‘Tell how ye hobnobbed with the Queen o’ Italy,’ Sam says.
“‘Oh, father! Hobnobbed!’ says she. ‘Anybody would think that she and I had manicured each other’s hands. She only spoke a few words of Italian and looked very gracious an’ beautiful an’ complimented my color.’
“Then she lay back in her chair, kind o’ weary, an’ Sam asked me how was business—just to fill in the gap, I guess. Liz woke up an’ showed how far she’d got ahead in the race.
“‘Business!’ says she, with animation. ‘That’s why I haven’t any patience with American men. They never sit down for ten minutes without talking business. Their souls are steeped in commercialism. Don’t you see how absurd it is, father? There are plenty of lovely things to talk about.’
“Sam looked guilty, an’ I felt sorry for him. It had cost heavy to educate his girl up to a p’int where she could give him so much advice an’ information. The result was natural. She was irritated by the large cubic capacity—the length, breadth and thickness of his ignorance and unrefinement; he was dazed by the length, breadth, an’ thickness of her learning an’ her charm. He didn’t say a word. He bowed his head before this pretty, perfumed casket of erudition.
“‘You like Europe,’ I says.
“‘I love it,’ says she. ‘It’s the only place to live. There one finds so much of the beautiful in art and music and so many cultivated people.’