Miss Mayhew laughed, as she laughed at everything, not because she was amused, but because she was happy; this childlike gayety of heart was great part of her charm. Elmore had quieted his scruples as a good Venetian by coming inside of the caffe while the band played, instead of sitting outside with the bad patriots; but he put the ladies next the window, and so they were not altogether sacrificed to his sympathy with the _dimostrazione_. VII. The next morning Elmore was called from his bed--at no very early hour, it must be owned, but at least before a nine o'clock breakfast--to see a gentleman who was waiting in the parlor. He dressed hurriedly, with a thousand exciting speculations in his mind, and found Mr. Rose-Black looking from the balcony window. "You have a pleasant position here," he said easily, as he turned about to meet Elmore's look of indignant demand. "I've come to ask all about our friends the Andersens." "I don't know anything about them," answered Elmore. "I never saw them before." "Aoeh!" said the painter. Elmore had not invited him to sit down, but now he dropped into a chair, with the air of asking Elmore to explain himself. "The young lady of your party seemed to know them. How uncommonly pretty all your American young girls are! But I'm told they fade very soon. I should like to make up a picnic party with you all for the Lido." "Thank you," replied Elmore stiffly. "Miss Mayhew has seen the Lido." "Aoeh! _That's_ her name. It's a pretty name." He looked through the open door into the dining-room, where the table was set for breakfast, with the usual water-goblet at each plate. "I see you have beer for breakfast. There's nothing so nice, you know. Would you--would you mind giving me a glahs?" Through an undefined sense of the duties of hospitality, Elmore was surprised by this impudence into sending out to the next caffe for a pitcher of beer. Rose-Black poured himself out one glass and another till he had emptied the pitcher, conversing affably meanwhile with his silent host. "_Why_ didn't you turn him out of doors?" demanded Mrs. Elmore, as soon as the painter's departure allowed her to slip from the closed door behind which she had been imprisoned in her room. "I did everything _but_ that," replied her husband, whom this interview had saddened more than it had angered. "You sent out for beer for him!" "I didn't know but it might make him sick. Really, the thing is incredible. I think the man is cracked." "He is an Englishman, and he thinks he can take any kind of liberty with us because we are Americans." "That seems to be the prevalent impression among all the European nationalities," said Elmore. "Let's drop him for the present, and try to be more brutal in the future."