er of those creamy Neapolitans left in
your pocket I'll accept it and forgive you."

"Right you are, O Queen! There are two here. Does your Majesty prefer a
purple paper or a green?"

The ruins, which formed the goal of their expedition, were the remains
of a once splendid villa erected by the Emperor Tiberius, and used
constantly by him until his death in A.D. 37. Most of the party were
disappointed to find them, as Peachy expressed it, "so very ruiny." It
was difficult to picture what the original palace must have been like,
for nothing was left of all the grandeur but crumbling walls, over which
Nature had scattered ferns and flowers. At the very top some of the old
masonry had been used to build a tiny church; this was closed, but,
peeping through the grille in the door, the visitors could catch
glimpses of blue-painted roof and of little model ships, placed as
votive offerings by the sailors in gratitude for preservation from
danger at sea. Outside this chapel was a great stone monument built so
near the edge of the cliff that, when sitting on its steps, one could
look down a sheer drop of several hundred feet into the blue waters
below. The view from here was magnificent, and as the Clan, in turns,
scanned the neighboring coast of Italy with field glasses, they believed
they could even distinguish the Greek temples at Paestum. The girls
described the glorious excursion they had taken there from school.

"You were lucky to be able to go all the way by char-a-banc," commented
Mrs. Cameron. "Dad and I went there on our honeymoon, years and years
ago, and traveled all the way from Naples by a terrible little jolting
train that carried cattle-trucks and luggage-trucks as well as passenger
carriages. I shan't ever forget that journey. We had to leave the
station at 6.30 and when we came downstairs we found it was a pouring
wet day. It was only the fact that the sleepy looking waiter at our
hotel must have roused himself at 5 A.M. to prepare our coffee, and that
we did not like to ask him to do it again another morning, that forced
us to set off in the rain. I never felt so disinclined for an excursion
in my life. Dad said afterwards if I'd given him the least hint he'd
have joyfully relinquished it, but each thought the other wanted to go,
so off we set. All the way to Cava it simply streamed, and we sat in our
corners of the carriage secretly calling ourselves idiots, and wondering
how we were going to look over temp