"Why don't you go to the Louvre? It's much better."
"We have just come from there: we have had quite a morning."
"Well, it's a good place," the visitor continued.
"It's good for some things but it doesn't come up to my idea for others."
"Oh, they've seen everything," said Mr. Dosson. Then he added, "I guess I'll go and call Francie."
"Well, tell her to hurry," Miss Delia returned, swinging a glove in each hand.
"She knows my pace," Mr. Flack remarked.
"I should think she would, the way you raced!" the girl ejaculated, with memories of the Umbria. "I hope you don't expect to rush round Paris that way."
"I always rush. I live in a rush. That's the way to get through."
"Well, I am through, I guess," said Mr. Dosson, philosophically.
"Well, I ain't!" his daughter declared, with decision.
"Well, you must come round often," the old gentleman continued, as a leave-taking.
"Oh, I'll come round! I'll have to rush, but I'll do it."
"I'll send down Francie." And Francie's father crept away.
"And please to give her some more money!" her sister called after him.
