“The girl goes about alone with her foreigners.  As to what happens further, you must apply elsewhere for information.  She has picked up half a dozen of the regular Roman fortune hunters, and she takes them about to people’s houses.  When she comes to a party she brings with her a gentleman with a good deal of manner and a wonderful mustache.”

“And where is the mother?”

“I haven’t the least idea.  They are very dreadful people.”

Winterbourne meditated a moment.  “They are very ignorant—­ very innocent only.  Depend upon it they are not bad.”

“They are hopelessly vulgar,” said Mrs. Costello.  “Whether or no being hopelessly vulgar is being ‘bad’ is a question for the metaphysicians.  They are bad enough to dislike, at any rate; and for this short life that is quite enough.”

The news that Daisy Miller was surrounded by half a dozen wonderful mustaches checked Winterbourne’s impulse to go straightway to see her.  He had, perhaps, not definitely flattered himself that he had made an ineffaceable impression upon her heart, but he was annoyed at hearing of a state of affairs so little in harmony with an image that had lately flitted in and out of his own meditations; the image of a very pretty girl looking out of an old Roman window and asking herself urgently when Mr. Winterbourne would arrive.  If, however, he determined to wait a little before reminding Miss Miller of his claims to her consideration, he went very soon to call upon two or three other friends.  One of these friends was an American lady who had spent several winters at Geneva, where she had placed her children at school.  She was a very accomplished woman, and she lived in the Via Gregoriana.  Winterbourne found her in a little crimson drawing room on a third floor; the room was filled with southern sunshine.  He had not been there ten minutes when the servant came in, announcing “Madame Mila!” This announcement was presently followed by the entrance of little Randolph Miller, who stopped in the middle of the room and stood staring at Winterbourne.  An instant later his pretty sister crossed the threshold; and then, after a considerable interval, Mrs. Miller slowly advanced.

“I know you!” said Randolph.

“I’m sure you know a great many things,” exclaimed Winterbourne, taking him by the hand.  “How is your education coming on?”

Daisy was exchanging greetings very prettily with her hostess, but when she heard Winterbourne’s voice she quickly turned her head.  “Well, I declare!” she said.

“I told you I should come, you know,” Winterbourne rejoined, smiling.

“Well, I didn’t believe it,” said Miss Daisy.

“I am much obliged to you,” laughed the young man.

“You might have come to see me!” said Daisy.

“I arrived only yesterday.”

“I don’t believe that!” the young girl declared.

Winterbourne turned with a protesting smile to her mother, but this lady evaded his glance, and, seating herself, fixed her eyes upon her son.  “We’ve got a bigger place than this,” said Randolph.  “It’s all gold on the walls.”