Year: 1873

Few Americans are now to be
found anywhere who have not been
in Switzerland. Fewer still who,
having been in Switzerland of late
years, do not know the Beau-Ri-
wage Hotel, at Ouchy, the little
port of Lausanne. The Beau-Ri-
wage is the vast palace, standing in
what may almost be called park,
which looks across Lake Leman to
the Savoy Alps. Tourists of late
years have naturally enough pour
ed into the Beau-Rivage even in
preference to the pleasant and com
Portable Hotel Gibbon, in the town


of Lausanne, although the grounds
of the Hotel Gibbon bear the fame
of having been trodden by the his
torian of the Decline and Fall,
when, on the completion of his
great life task, he took his memoir
able midnight walk, and moralized
on what he had done. Nor does
the renown of the old-fashioned


Anchor, at Ouchy-the Anchor in


whose best room Lord Byron, be-


lated, wrote part of one of the cam


tos of Childe Harold, and listened


to Jura answering in thunder the
joyous Alps-offer any serious ri


valry to the gayety, the bright


ness, the walks, the woods, and the


table d'hote of the brilliant Beau


Rivage.


Two summers ago ! happened to


visit Lausanne and the Beau-Ri-


wage, and while there chance threw


me in the way of forming an ac-
quaintanceship by means of which
l became a parsonage in the story
I am about to tell. / think there
was enough of the romantic about
it to justify me in giving it the
name / have adopted as tile.


arrived at the hotel by train
from st. Michel, one morning, and
was lucky enough to get room in
the hotel itself, instead of being
relegated, as l had expected, to the
chalet which is built close by on
the grounds, and which serves as q
succersal, or a chapel of ease, to
the great building. l had hardly
had time to congratulate myself on
my good fortune when an elderly
gentleman came with young lady
apparently his daughter), her maid
and o courier. They were Eng
lish; so was lat least l hailed
from British territory. They were
soon in the midst of q little dilem-
ma, for there was only one room
left in the hotel. Their telegram
had not reached, etc. The one
room in the hotel the lady could
have, and there were rooms in the
chalet at the disposal of the gentle
man. But the father and daughter
did not like the separation; and to
cut all the preliminary matter short,
intruded myself on the field of
debate, offered to give up my room
to the elderly gentleman, prevailed
upon him to accept it, was largely
thanked for a small favor, and was
at once received into the acquaint-
anceship of the father, and most
into that of the daughter.


l sat near them at dinner that
day. The father was a gentleman
ly-lilxe, genial person, and soon
learned, without inquiring, a good
deal about himself and his circum-
stances. He had been merchant,
md was now retired from business.
Set up for a gentleman, sir" he
,aid, "and / find 1t rather a dull
,rade." Many things about his life
md his ways he told me, but there
vas one thing he did not tell, and
which yet / soon guessed at-his
yreat trouble with his daughter
He was a widower, and he was evil
lently very fond Of his daughter
,ut one should be dull indeed who
lid not see that she was his trouble.
lis anxious eye was hardly ever off