y time of the year better than
the most comfortable of hotels.

"This is quite like home," she added, "even though we are really exiles."
Aleck ventured to hope that the "professional advice" had not meant
serious trouble of any sort.

"A slight indisposition only."

"And are you much better now?" Aleck inquired solicitously.

"Oh, it wasn't I; it was Melanie," Madame smiled. "I became my own
physician many years ago, and now I never see a doctor except when we ask
one to dine. But youth has no such advantage." Madame fairly beamed
with benevolence while explaining one of her pet idiosyncrasies. Before
Aleck could make any headway in gleaning information concerning her own
and Melanie's movements, as he was shamelessly trying to do, Lloyd-Jones
had persuaded Miss Reynier to sing.

"Some of those quaint old things, please," he was saying; and Aleck
wondered if he never would hang himself with his own rope. But
Lloyd-Jones' cheerful voice went on:

"Some of those Hungarian things are jolly and funny, even though you
can't understand the words. Makes you want to dance or sing yourself."
Aleck groaned, but Melanie began to sing, with Jones hovering around the
piano. By the time Melanie had sung everybody's favorites, excluding
Aleck's, Mr. Chamberlain rose to depart. He was an Englishman, a
serious, heavy gentleman, very loyal to old friends and very slow in
making new ones. He made an engagement to dine with Aleck on the
following evening, and, as he went out, threw back to the remaining
gentlemen an offer of seats in his machine.

"I ought to go," said Jones; "but if Van Camp will stay, I will. That
is," he added with belated punctiliousness, "if the ladies will permit?"

"Thank you, Chamberlain, I'm walking," drawled Aleck; then turning to the
company with his cheerful grin he stated quite impersonally: "I was
thinking of staying long enough to put one question--er, a matter of some
little importance--to Miss Reynier. When she gives me the desired
information, I shall go."

"Me, too," chirped Mr. Lloyd-Jones. "I came expressly to talk over that
plan of building up friendly adjoining estates out in Idaho; sort of
private shooting and hunting park, you know. And I haven't had a minute
to say a word." Jones suddenly began to feel himself aggrieved. As the
door closed after Chamberlain, Melanie motioned them back to their seats.

"It's not so very late," she said easily. "Come back and make yoursel