per widely perused in certain circles, drew pictures; one
might gather that it was his intention to be funny, later, when he had
leisure to amplify. _Marchese Peppino_ always had that intention, and
its readers, whose judgment of humour was possibly, however, not of the
most delicate or polished type, considered that it usually fulfilled it.
The drawings now in process of production were, before they were
amplified at leisure, really quite like life; later they would become
less so, but no doubt more entertaining. They seemed to be a little
funny even now. A man looking over the artist's shoulder giggled and dug
him in the ribs. The artist was a nonchalant young man, who did not seem
to be amusing himself particularly, but to be working in a wholly
professional and business-like spirit. He had quick eyes and clever
fingers, and presumably, since he did his job really well, a suitably
developed sense of the ludicrous.

Royalty left the pier. It was, presumably, going to have lunch before it
admired Naples. That was certainly as well; it gave the representatives
of the Press a respite, during which they, too, if they had the
inclination and the wherewithal, might have lunch.

The representative of the _Marchese Peppino_ sat down on an inverted
basket and continued to record impressions, while the crowd thinned
slowly.

A facetious young man, passing the artist, made a show of being doubled
up with helpless laughter--a mirth presumably anticipatory in nature and
complimentary of intent. When he wearied of the compliment he clapped
the journalist on the shoulder and observed:

'We shall split our sides on Thursday, ne?'

He cherished an immense admiration for the pictorial staff of the
_Marchese Peppino_. The staff gave him his usual melancholy look from
under quick brows, and said:

'Have you seen my sister?'

'Just now, talking over there with La Corrini.'

From the group indicated by the jerked thumb the staff's sister emerged.
She strolled up to her brother. There did not seem to be any particular
difference between them, externally. The boy might have been
twenty-three and the girl twenty-two; or it was quite equally likely to
be the other way about. At first glance there seemed to be a certain
resemblance between them in dress as well as in face; analysis, however,
reduced this to the suggestion in each of an untidiness--one might all
but say a disreputability--that made their worldly status a matter for
spe