Out would come another star, winking at me over the white shoulder of the Rothorn. Round me stood the mountains, exquisite examples of peace-- A world above man's head, to let him see How boundless might his soul's horizons be-- and here was I, minding because guests went into their bedrooms and told each other I had five children. Well, so I had. Nothing could possibly be more true. How vast, yet of what clear transparency-- and minding because they said I was forty, which I certainly would be some day, if I went on living at the rate I was doing. How it were good to abide there and be free-- The fact was, I reflected, my eyes on the glittering slopes of the Weisshorn, we were all too close together, and my guests, being of one family, only made this closeness worse. The remedy--it burst upon me suddenly in a flash,--was not to waste my serenity vainly longing for the guests I had to go, but to invite yet more of them. Unrelated ones.