o-morrow. And now, Mr. Rainham, if you
don't mind, I think we will sit down. I can see that Hugh is getting
out his sketch-book."

She sank down as she spoke upon one of the rough stone seats which
are scattered about the cape. Mr. Dollond had ensconced himself
behind them, and was phlegmatically starting on a rough study of the
old town, which rose in a ragged, compact mass a hundred yards away,
with its background of sad olives and sapphire sky.

Rainham followed the lady's example, tired himself by their scramble
under the hot sun, and contented himself for a while by turning a
deaf ear and polite, little mechanical gestures to her perennial
flow of inconsequent chatter, which seemed quite impervious to
fatigue, while he rested his eyes on the charming prospect at their
feet; the ragged descent of red rocks, broken here and there by
patches of burnt grass and pink mallows, the little sea-girt chapel
of St. Ampelio, and the waste of violet sea. His inattentive ear was
caught at last by the name of Lightmark occurring, recurring, in the
light eddy of his companion's speech, and he turned to her with an
air of apologetic inquiry.

"Yes," Mrs. Dollond was observing, "it was quite a grand
wedding; rather pretentious, you know, we thought it, for the
Sylvesters--but, oh, a great affair! We stayed in London for it,
although Hugh wanted to take a holiday. I could tell you all about
the bridesmaids' dresses, and Mrs. Lightmark's, but I suppose you
would not care. She looked very charming!"

"Yes?" said Rainham, with a curious light in his averted eyes. Then
he added, somewhat abruptly, "Brides always do, I suppose?"

"Of course, if they have a good dressmaker. And the presents--there
was quite a show. Your pearl necklace--how I envied her that! But,
after all, weddings are so much alike."

"I have never been to one," said the other absently.

"Ah, then you ought, if only to get a little experience before your
own time comes, you know. Yes, you really ought to have been there.
It was quite a foregone conclusion that you would be best man. It
was so funny to see Colonel Lightmark in that _role_, with that young
Mr. Sylvester giving away the bride. It would have been so much
better if they could have changed parts."

"I am sorry to interrupt you," said Mr. Dollond, getting up and
putting away his sketch-book; "I can't sketch; the place is full of
locusts, and they are getting into my boots."

Mrs. Dollond started up,