o the sufferings of others and
infinitesimally sensitive to their own.

When Nicky heard the story he gave Marie Louise a curious look of
disapproval and took Bettina into his lap. She was also already one of
those ladies who find a man's lap an excellent consolation. He got rid
of her adroitly and when she and Victor were once more engaged in
navigation Nicky took up the business he had come for.

"May I stop a moment?" he said, and sat down.

"I have a letter for you," said Marie Louise.

His roving eyes showed him that the coast was clear, and he slipped a
letter into her hand-bag which she opened, and from it he took the
letter she cautiously disclosed. He chatted awhile and moved away.

This sort of meeting took place several times in several places. When
the crowds were too great or a bobby loitered about, Nicky would
murmur to Marie Louise that she had better start home. He would take
her arm familiarly and the transfer of the parcel would be deftly
achieved.

This messenger service went on for several weeks. Sir Joseph
apologized for the trouble he gave Marie Louise. He seemed to be
sincerely unhappy about it, and his little eyes in their fat, watery
bags peered at her with a tender regret and an ulterior regret as
well.

He explained a dozen times that he sent her because it was such an
important business and he had no one else to trust. And Marie Louise,
for all her anxiety, was sadly glad of his confidence, regarded it as
sacred, and would not violate it so much as to make the least effort
to learn what messages she was carrying. Nothing, of course, would
have been easier than to pry open one of these envelopes. Sometimes
the lapel was hardly sealed. But she would as soon have peeked into a
bathroom.

Late in June the Weblings left town and settled in the great country
seat Sir Joseph had bought from a bankrupt American who had bought it
from nobility gone back to humility. Here life was life. There were
forests and surreptitious pheasants, deer that would almost but never
quite come to call, unseen nightingales that sang from lofty nave and
transept like cherubim all wings and voice.

The house was usually full of guests, but they were careful not to
intrude upon their hosts nor their hosts upon them. The life was like
life at a big hotel. There was always a little gambling to be had,
tennis, golf, or music, or a quiet chat, gardens to stroll and sniff
or grub in, horses to ride, motors at beck a