azers. He contented
himself, however, with the remark that water-color sketches were "weak,
puling daubs," and then he went on through the old archway as
majestically as he could.

"One of the features of Mentone seems to be the number of false windows
carefully painted on the outside of the houses, windows adorned with
blinds, muslin curtains, pots of flowers, and even gay rugs hanging over
the sill," said Margaret.

"And then the frescos," I added--"landscapes, trees, gods and goddesses,
in the most brilliant colors, on the side of the house."

"_I_ like it," said Mrs. Clary; "it is so tropical."

"You commend falsity, then," said Miss Graves. "_What_ can be more false
than a false rug?"

We went homeward by the sea-wall, and saw some boys coming up from the
beach with a basket of sea-urchins. "They eat them, you know," said Mrs.
Clary.

"Is that tropical too?" said Janet, shuddering.

"It is, after all, but a difference in custom," observed the Professor.
"I myself have eaten puppies in China, and found them not unpalatable."

Janet surveyed him; then fell behind and joined Inness and Baker.

Some fishermen on the beach were talking to two women with red
handkerchiefs on their heads, who were leaning over the sea-wall. "Their
language is a strange patois," said the Professor; "it is composed of a
mixture of Italian, French, Spanish, and even Arabic."

"But the people themselves are thoroughly Italian, I think, in spite of
the French boundary line," said Margaret. "They are a handsome race,
with their dark eyes, thick hair, and rich coloring."

"I have never bestowed much thought upon beauty _per se_," responded the
Professor. "The imperishable mind has far more interest."

"How much of the imperishable M. do you possess, Miss Trescott?" I heard
Inness murmur.

"Breakfast" was served at one o'clock in the large dining-room, and we
found ourselves opposite the two English artists, and a young lady whom
they called "Miss Elaine."

"Elaine is bad enough; but 'Miss Elaine'!" said Margaret aside to me.

However, Miss Elaine seemed very well satisfied with herself and her
Tennysonian title. She was a short, plump blonde, with a high color, and
I could see that she regarded Janet with pity as she noted her slender
proportions and delicate complexion in the one exhaustive glance with
which girls survey each other when they first meet. We were some time at
the table, but during the first five minutes both of