menu_book Chapter 1

daisy miller a study in two parts by henry james section one part one at the little town of vivier in switzerland there is a particularly comfortable hotel there are indeed many hotels for the entertainment of tourists is the business of the place which as many travellers will remember is seated upon the edge of a remarkably blue lake a lake that it behooves every tourist to visit the shore of the lake presents an unbroken array of establishments of this order of every category from the grand hotel of the newest fashion with a chalk-white front a hundred balconies and a dozen flags flying from its roof to the little swiss pension of an elder day with its name inscribed in german-looking lettering upon a pink or yellow wall and an awkward summer-house in the angle of the garden One of the hotels at Vevey, however, is famous, even classical, being distinguished from many of its upstart neighbours by an air both of luxury and of maturity.

In this region, in the months of June, American travellers are extremely numerous. It may be said, indeed, that Vevey assumes at this period some of the characteristics of an American watering-place. There are sights and sounds which evoke vision and echo of Newport and Saratoga. There is a flitting hither and thither of stylish young girls, a rustling of muslin flounces, a rattle of dance music in the morning hours, a sound of high-pitched voices at all times.

You receive an impression of these things at the excellent inn of the Trois-Couronnes, and are transported in fancy to the Ocean House or to Congress Hall. but at the trois couronnes it must be added there are other features that are much at variance with these suggestions neat german waiters who look like secretaries of legation russian princesses sitting in the garden little polish boys walking about held by the hand with their governors a view of the sunny crest of the don du midi and the picturesque towers of the castle of chillon i hardly know whether it was the analogies or the differences that were uppermost in the mind of a young american who two or three years ago sat in the garden of the trois couronnes looking about him rather idly at some of the graceful objects i have mentioned

it was a beautiful summer morning and in whatever fashion the young american looked at things they must have seemed to him charming he had come from geneva the day before by the little steamer to see his aunt who was staying at the hotel geneva having been for a long time his place of residence but his aunt had a headache his aunt had almost always a headache and now she was shut up in her room smelling camphor so that he was at liberty to wander about he was some seven-and-twenty years of age when his friends spoke of him they usually said that he was at geneva studying when his enemies spoke of him they said but after all he had no enemies he was an extremely amiable fellow and universally liked what i should say is simply that when a certain person spoke of him they affirmed that the reason of his spending so much time at geneva was that he was extremely devoted to a lady who lived there a foreign lady a person older than himself very few americans indeed i think none had ever seen this lady about whom there were some singular stories but winterbourne had an old attachment for the little metropolis of calvinism

he had been put to school there as a boy and he had afterward gone to college there circumstances which had led to his forming a great many youthful friendships many of these he had kept and they were a source of great satisfaction to him after knocking at his aunt's door and learning that she was indisposed he had taken a walk about the town and then he had come in to his breakfast he had now finished his breakfast but he was drinking a small cup of coffee which had been served to him on a little table in the garden by one of the waiters who looked like an attach at last he finished his coffee and lit a cigarette presently a small boy came walking along the path an urchin of nine or ten the child who was diminutive for his years had an aged expression of countenance a pale complexion and sharp little features he was dressed in knickerbockers with red stockings which displayed his poor little spindle shanks he also wore a brilliant red cravat he carried in his hand a long alpenstock the sharp point of which he thrust into everything that he approached the flower-beds the garden benches the trains of the ladies dresses in front of winterbourne he paused looking at him with a pair of bright penetrating little eyes

will you give me a lump of sugar he asked in a sharp hard little voice a voice immature and yet somehow not young winterbourne glanced at the small table near him on which his coffee service rested and saw that several morsels of sugar remained yes you may take one he answered but i don't think sugar is good for little boys this little boy stepped forward and carefully selected three of the coveted fragments two of which he buried in the pocket of his knickerbockers depositing the other as promptly in another place he poked his alpenstock lance fashion into winterbourne's bench and tried to crack the lump of sugar with his teeth oh blazes it's hard he exclaimed pronouncing the adjective in a peculiar manner winterbourne had immediately perceived that he might have the honour of claiming him as a fellow-countryman take care you don't hurt your teeth he said paternally i haven't got any teeth to hurt they have all come out i have only got seven teeth my mother counted them last night and one came out right afterward she said she'd slap me if any more came out i can't help it it's this old europe it's the climate that makes them come out in america they didn't come out it's these hotels

winterbourne was much amused if you eat three lumps of sugar your mother will certainly slap you he said she's got to give me some candy then rejoined his young interlocutor i can't get any candy here any american candy american candy is the best candy and are american little boys the best little boys asked winterbourne i don't know i'm an american boy said the child i see you are one of the best laughed winterbourne are you an american man pursued this vivacious infant and then on winterbourne's affirmative reply american men are the best he declared his companion thanked him for the compliment and the child who had now got astride of his alpenstock stood looking about him while he attacked a second lump of sugar winterbourne wondered if he himself had been like this in his infancy for he had been brought to europe at about this age here comes my sister cried the child in a moment she's an american girl

winterbourne looked along the path and saw a beautiful young lady advancing american girls are the best girls he said cheerfully to his young companion my sister ain't the best the child declared she's always blowing at me i imagine that is your fault not hers said winterbourne the young lady meanwhile had drawn near she was dressed in white muslin with a hundred frills and flances and knots of pale-coloured ribbon she was bareheaded but she balanced in her hand a little parasol with a deep border of embroidery and she was strikingly admirably pretty how pretty you are thought winterbourne straightening himself in his seat as if he were prepared to rise the young lady paused in front of his bench near the parapet of the garden which overlooked the lake the little boy had now converted his alpenstock into a vaulting pole by the aid of which he was springing about in the gravel and kicking it up not a little randolph said the young lady what are you doing i'm going up the alps replied randolph this is the way and he gave another little jump scattering the pebbles about winterbourne's ears that's the way they come down said winterborne he's an american man cried randolph in his little hard voice the young lady gave no heed to this announcement but looked straight at her brother

well i guess you had better be quiet she simply observed it seemed to winterbourne that he had been in a manner presented he got up and stepped slowly toward the young girl throwing away his cigarette the little boy and i have made an acquaintance he said with great civility in geneva as he had been perfectly aware a young man was not at liberty to speak to a young unmarried lady except under certain rarely occurring conditions but here at vevey what conditions could be better than these a pretty american girl coming and standing in front of you in a garden this pretty american girl however on hearing winterbourne's observation simply glanced at him she then turned her head and looked over the parapet at the lake and the opposite mountains he wondered whether he had gone too far but he decided that he must advance farther rather than retreat while he was thinking of something else to say the young lady turned to the little boy again i should like to know where you got that pole she said i bought it responded randolph you don't mean to say you're going to take it to italy yes i'm going to take it to italy the child declared

the young girl glanced over the front of her dress and smoothed out a knot or two of ribbon then she rested her eyes upon the prospect again well i guess you had better leave it somewhere she said after a moment are you going to italy winterbourne inquired in a turn of great respect the young lady glanced at him again yes sir she replied and she said nothing more are you ah going over the simplon winterbourne pursued a little embarrassed i don't know she said i suppose it's some mountain randolph what mountain are we going over going where the child demanded to italy winterbourne explained i don't know said randolph i don't want to go to italy i want to go to america oh italy's a beautiful place rejoined the young man can you get candy there randolph loudly inquired i hope not said his sister i guess you have had enough candy and mother thinks so too i haven't had any for ever so long for a hundred weeks cried the boy still jumping about the young lady inspected her flances and smoothed her ribbons again and winterbourne presently risked an observation upon the beauty of the view

he was ceasing to be embarrassed for he had begun to perceive that she was not in the least embarrassed herself there had been not the slightest alteration in her charming complexion she was evidently neither offended nor flattered if she looked another way when he spoke to her and seemed not particularly to hear him this was simply her habit her manner yet as he talked a little more and pointed out some of the objects of interest in the view with which she appeared quite unacquainted she gradually gave him more of the benefit of her glance and then he saw that this glance was perfectly direct and unshrinking it was not however what would have been called an immodest glance for the young girl's eyes were singularly honest and fresh they were wonderfully pretty eyes and indeed winterbourne had not seen for a long time anything prettier than his fair countrywoman's various features her complexion her nose her ears her teeth he had a great relish for feminine beauty he was addicted to observing and analysing it and as regards this young lady's face he made several observations it was not at all insipid but it was not exactly expressive and though it was eminently delicate

winterbourne mentally accused it very forgivingly of a want of finish he thought it very possible that master randolph's sister was a coquette he was sure she had a spirit of her own but in her bright sweet superficial little visage there was no mockery no irony before long it became obvious that she was much disposed toward conversation she told him that they were going to rome for the winter she and her mother and randolph she asked him if he was a real american she shouldn't have taken him for one he seemed more like a german this was said after a little hesitation especially when he spoke winterbourne laughing answered that he had met germans who spoke like americans but that he had not as far as he remembered met an american who spoke like a german then he asked her if she should not be more comfortable in sitting upon the bench which he had just quitted she answered that she liked standing up and walking about but she presently sat down she told him she was from new york state

if you know where that is winterbourne learned more about her by catching hold of her small slippery brother and making him stand a few minutes by his side tell me your name my boy he said randolph c miller said the boy sharply and i'll tell you her name and he levelled his album stock at his sister you had better wait till you are asked said this young lady calmly "'I should like very much to know your name,' said Winterbourne. "'Her name is Daisy Miller,' cried the child. "'But that isn't her real name.

That isn't her name on her cards.' "'It's a pity you haven't got one of my cards,' said Miss Miller. "'Her real name is Annie P. Miller,' the boy went on. "'Ask him his name,' said his sister, indicating Winterbourne. But on this point, Randolph seemed perfectly indifferent.

He continued to supply information with regard to his own family. My father's name is Ezra B. Miller, he announced. My father ain't in Europe. My father's in a better place than Europe. Winterbourne imagined for a moment that this was the manner in which the child had been

taught to intimate that Mr. Miller had been removed to the sphere of celestial reward. But Randolph immediately added, My father's in Schenectady. He's got a big business. My father's rich, you bet.

"'Well,' ejaculated Miss Miller, luring her parasol and looking at the embroidered border. Winterbourne presently released the child, who departed, dragging his alpenstock along the path. "'He doesn't like Europe,' said the young girl.

"'He wants to go back.' "'To Schenectady, you mean?' "'Yes, he wants to go right home. He hasn't got any boys here. There is one boy here, but he always goes round with the teacher.

They won't let him play. and your brother hasn't any teacher winterborne inquired mother thought of getting him one to travel round with us there was a lady told her of a very good teacher an american lady perhaps you know her mrs sanders i think she came from boston she told us of this teacher and we thought of getting him to travel round with us but randolph said he didn't want a teacher travelling round with us he said he wouldn't have lessons when he was in the cars and we are in the cars about half the time there was an english lady we met in the cars i think her name was miss featherstone perhaps you know her she wanted to know why i didn't give randolph lessons give him instruction she called it i guess he could give me more instruction than i could give him he's very smart yes said winterbourne he seems very smart mother's going to get a teacher for him as soon as we get to italy can you get good teachers in italy very good i should think said winterbourne

or else she's going to find some school he ought to learn some more he's only nine he's going to college and in this way miss miller continued to converse upon the affairs of her family and upon other topics she sat there with her extremely pretty hands ornamented with very brilliant rings folded in her lap and with her very pretty eyes now resting upon those of winterbourne now wandering over the garden the people who passed by and the beautiful view she talked to winterbourne as if she had known him a long time he found it very pleasant it was many years since he had heard a young girl talk so much it might have been said of this unknown young lady who had come and sat down beside him on a bench that she chattered she was very quiet she sat in a charming tranquil attitude but her lips and her eyes were constantly moving she had a soft slender agreeable voice and her tone was decidedly sociable She gave Winterbourne a history of her movements and intentions, and those of her mother and brother, in Europe, and enumerated, in particular, the various hotels at which they had stopped.

That English lady in the cars, she said, Miss Featherstone, asked me if we didn't all live in hotels in America. I told her I had never been in so many hotels in my life as since I came to Europe. I have never seen so many. It's nothing but hotels. But Miss Miller did not make this remark with a querulous accent. She appeared to be in the best humour with everything.

She declared that the hotels were very good, when once it got used to their ways, and that Europe was perfectly sweet. She was not disappointed, not a bit. Perhaps it was because she had heard so much about it before. She had ever so many intimate friends that had been there ever so many times.

And then she had had ever so many dresses and things from Paris. whenever she put on a paris dress she felt as if she were in europe it was a kind of a wishing cap said winterborne yes said miss miller without examining this analogy it always made me wish i was here but i needn't have done that for dresses i am sure they send all the pretty ones to america you see the most frightful things here the only thing i don't like she proceeded is the society there isn't any society or if there is i don't know where it keeps itself do you i suppose there is some society somewhere but i haven't seen anything of it i'm very fond of society and i have always had a great deal of it i don't mean only in schenectady but in new york i used to go to new york every winter in new york i had lots of society last winter i had seventeen dinners given me and three of them were by gentlemen added daisy miller

i have more friends in new york than in schenectady more gentlemen friends and more young lady friends too she resumed in a moment she paused again for an instant she was looking at winterbourne with all her prettiness in her lively eyes and in her light slightly monotonous smile i have always had she said a great deal of gentlemen's society i recorded by gazina in august two thousand and seven