The hotel is not half full.
Of its inmates one half are American, a quarter German, and the other quarter English, such as not the most rabidly social mind can wish to forgather with.

At the discovery of our ill-success, Sir Roger looks so honestly crestfallen that my heart smites me.
"How eager you are!" I say, laying my hand on his, with a smile.

"You are far more anxious about it than I am! I begin to think that you are growing tired of me already! As for me," continue I, nonchalantly, seeing his face brighten at my words, "I think I have changed my mind.
Perhaps it would be rather a _bore_ to meet any acquaintance, and--and--we do very well as we are, do not we ?" "Is that true, Nancy ?" he says, eagerly.

"I have been bothering my head rather with the notion that I was but poor company for a little young thing like you; that you must be wearying for some of your own friends." "I never had a friend," reply I, "_never_--that is--except _you_! The boys"-- (with a little stealing smile)--"always used to call you my friend--always from the first, from the days I used to take you out walking, and keep wishing that you were my father, and be rather hurt because I never could get you to echo the wish." "And you are not much disappointed _really_ ?" he says, with a wistful persistence, as if he but half believed the words my lips made.

"If you are, mind you tell me, child--tell me every thing that vexes you--_always_!" "I will tell you every thing that happens to me, bad and good," reply I, quite gayly, "and all the unlucky things I say--there, that is a large promise, I can tell you!" I am no longer dusty and grimy; quite spick and span, on the contrary; so freshly and prettily dressed, indeed, that the thought _will_ occur to me that it is a pity there are not more people to see me.