amp or dirty patches on the wall. Crookedly hung
pictures had been straightened; some Christmas magazines were lying
about, and bowls of chrysanthemums relieved the room of its wonted
gloom. It really had almost a festive air; and after her rather lonely
life at the hotel, the place and the people seemed pleasant to Mary. She
was so enchanted with a little shivering marmoset, which Miss Wardropp
had bought of a wandering monkey-merchant in the Galerie Charles Trois,
that Dodo forgave her the wonderful dress and filet, if she did not
quite forgive Lady Dauntrey the surprise. Then Mrs. Ernstein produced
two trained sparrows, which she called her "mosquito hawks" and took
with her everywhere. Mary told them both about an adorable blue frog
named Hilda which she had bought at a Mentone china-shop; and in
comparing pets the atmosphere cleared. They all started off in cabs for
the harbour and _White Lady's_ slip, where a motor-launch from the yacht
would meet them; and Mary made friends with Dom Ferdinand, who was the
only man in the carriage with her and Lady Dauntrey.

Arriving at the slip they found Major Norwood and the Maharajah of
Indorwana also waiting for the launch, with Captain Hannaford; and Mary
introduced all three to the party from the Villa Bella Vista, whom they
did not yet know. Then came Dick Carleton, alone, for Schuyler had
firmly refused to sacrifice himself on the altar of friendship, and half
a dozen smart, merry little officers of the Chasseurs Alpins, stationed
at Mentone, and up at the lonely fort on Mont Agel. By this time it was
late, for Lady Dauntrey wished to make a dramatic entry after most of
the guests had already come on board, and the wish was more than
granted. She, with her gorgeous widow and the two girls, attended by
fifteen men, burst upon the crowd, who, for the best of reasons, had not
yet begun to dance. Besides Mrs. Holbein and her daughter, there was not
another woman present until the party from the Villa Bella Vista
appeared.

Seldom could there have been a more curious scene, upon a magnificently
appointed yacht, decorated for a dance. Already, when Lady Dauntrey and
her impromptu train arrived, forty or fifty men were assembled on a deck
screened in by flags and masses of palms and flowers. A Hungarian band
imported from Paris was playing, not dance music, for that would have
been a mockery in the circumstances, but gay marches and lively airs to
cheer drooping spirits. Of al