"Have you been to that old castle?" asked the young girl, pointing with her
parasol to the far-gleaming walls of the Chateau de Chillon.
"Yes, formerly, more than once," said Winterbourne.
"You too, I suppose, have seen it?"
"No; we haven't been there. I want to go there dreadfully.
Of course I mean to go there. I wouldn't go away from here
without having seen that old castle."
"It's a very pretty excursion," said Winterbourne, "and very easy to make.
You can drive, you know, or you can go by the little steamer."
"You can go in the cars," said Miss Miller.
"Yes; you can go in the cars," Winterbourne assented.
"Our courier says they take you right up to the castle," the young
girl continued. "We were going last week, but my mother gave out.
She suffers dreadfully from dyspepsia. She said she couldn't go.
Randolph wouldn't go either; he says he doesn't think much of old castles.
But I guess we'll go this week, if we can get Randolph."
"Your brother is not interested in ancient monuments?"
Winterbourne inquired, smiling.
"He says he don't care much about old castles.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39