s Mrs.
Shafto's only sister, and in the days of that sister's glory had never
obtruded herself; but now that poor Lucilla had come down in the world,
she had advanced with open arms, and at "Monte Carlo," the abode of the
Larcher family, Mrs. Shafto occasionally spent a week end. The
"go-as-you-please" atmosphere, late hours, breakfast in bed, and casual
meals, recalled old, and not unhappy times. Mrs. Larcher, who had
never been a beauty, was now a fat woman past fifty, lazy,
good-natured, and absolutely governed by her children. Besides Sandy,
the dandy, she had two daughters, Delia and Cossie.

Delia was on the stage (musical comedy), petite, piquant, and very
lively; a true grasshopper, living only for the summer; a loud,
reckless but respectable young woman, who, having but thirty shillings
a week salary and to find her own "tights," was ever ready to accept
motor drives, dinners, or a smart hat, or frock, from any of her
"boys." Cossie, the stay-at-home, was round-faced and plump; a
tireless talker and tennis player. She managed the house, held the
slender purse, accepted her sister's cast-offs, and always had a "case"
on with somebody. Cossie was exceedingly anxious (being the eldest of
the family) to secure a home of her own, and made this alarmingly
obvious.

To "Monte Carlo" Douglas, the highly presentable cousin, was frequently
commanded by both mother and aunt. At first he had hated this duty,
but nevertheless went, in order to please and silence his parent, whose
hand plied the goad and who otherwise "nagged" at him in public and in
private. In private she pointed out that the Larcher family were his
own blood relations, "so different from his father's side of the house,
which, since his death, had ignored both her and him, and never even
sent a wreath to the funeral!" By slow and painful degrees Douglas
became accustomed to "Monte Carlo"; at first the manners and customs of
his cousins had a rasping effect, and it was more than a year before he
really fell into line, and visited his kindred without pressure. The
girls were not bad-looking--in a flamboyant style--and effusively
good-natured; they took his chaff and criticism without offence, and
accepted with giggles his hints with respect to manners and appearance.
When Douglas happened to be expected, they did not stroll about
slip-shod in dressing-gowns, with their hair hanging loose, or bombard
one another with corks and crusts.

For his p