he arm of her reclining chair, but she laughed lightly, and the
words came quick.

"Jimmy boy, you were sound asleep on the front seat. Don't you remember,
Oswald, dear?"

Dwight, too, laughed merrily. "Surely! Why, little man, your peepers
were shut and you were curled up like a pussy cat----"

"But I'd waked up, daddy. Mamma gave a little scream and I thought
somebody'd hurt her, and there was this gentleman with his hat raised,
just standing and staring at her till she bent over and said something
quick----"

"Well, of all the _traeumbilder_ I ever heard!" and Mrs. Dwight's pearly
teeth gleamed through rosy lips as she laughed delightedly, merrily.
"Why, Jimmy boy, I had to shake you awake when I saw papa coming. That's
what I bent forward for. You called him for something, dear, or I
shouldn't have disturbed him."

"Certainly, I wanted him to see those Italian cavalry officers coming
by, and his eyes could hardly open in time. Just look at 'em now."

They were, indeed, worth looking at--big and violet, blue and round and
full of wonderment, of incredulity--almost of shock and distress--gazing
fixedly upon the lovely, laughing face of the girl in the deep reclining
chair.

And then, soft stepping, apologetic, salver in hand, a waiter appeared
at the long Venetian window. Dwight took the card, read, and fairly
cried aloud:

"By all that's jolly, Inez, it's Sandy Ray!"

CHAPTER III

A NIGHT AT NAPLES

There was a joyous time at the Salone Margherita that evening. Homeward
bound, the _Burnside_, from Manila to New York _via_ Suez, had anchored
that morning off the Dogana quay, and twoscore officers and ladies and a
numerous contingent of discharged soldiers had come swarming ashore to
see what they could of Naples before again proceeding on the morrow. The
fact that most of the officers were invalided home, convalescing from
wounds or severe illness, seemed but moderately to cloud their
enjoyment. By six o'clock most of their number had heard that Dwight of
the cavalry, with his bride, was at the Grand, whither several went at
once before ordering dinner. First to arrive, alone, and looking pallid
and ill, was a young soldier in civilian dress, who seemed nervously
impatient at the delay that followed the sending up of his card, and by
no means delighted when three or four of his fellows came in and
followed suit before his own was acknowledged. So uncompanionable,
indeed, was he that he stepped o