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The next day the tour continued, but so did the drizzling rain, and that evening, to his dismay, Mrs. Bushmill came down with a cold. It was nothing serious, but it entailed two doctor’s visits at American prices, together with the cost of the dozen remedies which European physicians order under any circumstances, and it was a discouraging note which he made in the back of his little book that night:

One ruined hat (She claimed it was an old hat, but it didn’t look old to me) $10.00 3 bus tickets for Monday 3.00 3 bus ” ” Tuesday 2.00 Tips to incompetent guide 1.50 2 doctor’s visits 8.00 Medicines 2.25 Total for two days sight-seeing $26.75

And, to balance that, Corcoran thought of the entry he might have made had he followed his first instinct:

One comfortable limousine for two days, including tip to chauffeur $26.00

Next morning Mrs. Bushmill remained in bed while he and Hallie took the excursion train to Waterloo. He had diligently mastered the strategy of the battle, and as he began his explanations of Napoleon’s maneuvers, prefacing it with a short account of the political situation, he was rather disappointed at Hallie’s indifference. Luncheon increased his uneasiness. He wished he had brought along the cold-lobster luncheon, put up by the hotel, that he had extravagantly considered. The food at the local restaurant was execrable and Hallie stared desolately at the hard potatoes and vintage steak, and then out the window at the melancholy rain. Corcoran wasn’t hungry either, but he forced himself to eat with an affectation of relish. Two more days in Brussels! And then Antwerp! And Rotterdam! And The Hague! Twenty-five more days of history to get up in the still hours of the night, and all for an unresponsive young person who did not seem to appreciate the advantages of travel.