The American lady was kind and cordial; but a marked indisposition to plank down indiscriminate dollars had always formed a feature in an estimate of trans-Atlantic character as conceived from early childhood; moreover, divorce laws being so varied by locality, and so light-heartedly sought and obtained, in the United States, citizens of that Republic could not logically be credited with sound views upon matrimonial duties and relationships. The only person whom it was possible to consult upon questions of that delicate complexion, besides being absent and unattainable, happened to be the very person whose conduct was arraigned for judgment, and the most rabid democrat has not yet gone so far as to allow the criminal to be his own judge and jury. Suddenly a light step on the gravel and a blithe "Bon jour, Madame," broke this current of melancholy thought, and evoked responsive brightness on her clouded face, as the laughing eyes and gay personality of M. Isidore appeared above the sun-steeped flowers. Madame was perhaps too tired for the usual Italian lesson, he conjectured. "Do I look tired?" she asked, smiling cheerfully, and heard that there was a shadow on her face as of one who had not slept well. What depth of sympathetic insight in this charming young fellow, the general utility person of the hotel! "I have not slept at all," she replied gaily. "I sat up reading all night. That is why I am haggard and fishy-eyed this morning." The appropriateness of these adjectives was promptly and warmly denied, with remarks to the effect that some faces only acquire fresh and spiritualized charm under the shadow of fatigue. There was further, she heard in elegant idiomatic French, a special quality of beauty peculiar to sadness and another to gaiety. Madame, it was thoughtfully averred, usually gave the impression of possessing gaiety and _joie de vivre_. "We all have our dark moods at times," she sighed, in Italian so outrageous that M. Isidore was obliged to repeat the sentence in an amended form, which he did with a sigh and an accent that made it the expression of his own intimate feelings. Upon this the pupil commented that we live in a vale of tears. Having corrected this proposition, the teacher contradicted it as flatly as was consistent with politeness and good Italian. "We live, on the contrary," he added, opening _Le mie Prigioni_ at a turned-down page with a view to reading it aloud--"we others at Les Oliviers--we live in an earthly Paradise. Yes?" he asked, smiling and indicating all the sunny beauty with a sweep of the hand. "But," he added, with a deep sigh, and in wild Italian, "Paradise had its serpent and the Garden of the Hesperides its dragon. So also our Paradise here." "Very true," the pupil corroborated, wondering what the serpent of the Oliviers Paradise was.