The Vaughns hope to meet us in Rome next winter, and I shall be dreadfully disappointed if they don't, for Grace and I are great friends, and the boys very nice fellows, especially Fred.
Well, we were hardly settled here, when he turned up again, saying he had come for a holiday, and was going to Switzerland.

Aunt looked sober at first, but he was so cool about it she couldn't say a word.

And now we get on nicely, and are very glad he came, for he speaks French like a native, and I don't know what we should do without him.

Uncle doesn't know ten words, and insists on talking English very loud, as if it would make people understand him.

Aunt's pronunciation is old-fashioned, and Flo and I, though we flattered ourselves that we knew a good deal, find we don't, and are very grateful to have Fred do the '_parley vooing_', as Uncle calls it.
Such delightful times as we are having! Sight-seeing from morning till night, stopping for nice lunches in the gay _cafes_, and meeting with all sorts of droll adventures.