th the Sisters," Beechy took advantage of the
other's embarrassed silence to go on. "And you hardly enjoyed Paris at
all, although everybody turned to look after you in the streets."

"Well, now that I have come, I should enjoy seeing the places I've cared
most to read about in history or poetry," said Miss Destrey quickly,
"and Venice is one of them."

"Maida has lived more in books than she has in real life," remarked Miss
Beechy with scorn. "I know a lot more about the world than she does,
although I am only--only--"

"Thirteen," finished the Countess. "Beechy darling, would you like to
have some more of those _marrons glaces_? They aren't good for you, but
just this once you may, if you want to. And oh, Sir Ralph, I should love
to see my new estate. It's a very old estate really, you know, though
new to me; so old that the castle is almost a ruin; but if I saw it and
took a great fancy to the place, I might have it restored and made
perfectly elegant, to live in sometimes, mightn't I? Just where _is_
Schloss (she pronounced it 'Slosh') what-you-may-call-it? I never _can_
say it properly?"

"Schloss Hrvoya is very far down in Dalmatia--almost as far east as
Montenegro," replied the Prince. "The roads are extremely bad, too. I do
not think they would be feasible for an automobile, especially for Sir
Ralph Moray's little twelve-horse-power car carrying five persons."

"I differ from you there, Prince." Terry argued, looking obstinate. "I
have never driven in Dalmatia, although I've been to Fiume and Abbazzia;
but I have a friend who went with his car, and he had no adventures
which ladies would not have enjoyed. Our principal difficulty would be
about petrol; but we could carry a lot, and have supplies sent to us
along the route. I'll engage to manage that--and the car."

"Then it's settled that we go," exclaimed Mrs. Kidder, clapping two
dimpled hands covered with rings. "What a wonderful trip it will be."

I could see that the Prince would have liked to call Terry out, but he
was too wise to dispute the question further; and a dawning plan of some
kind was slowly lightening his clouded eye.

My wish was granted at last; something was settled. And later, strolling
on the terrace, I contrived to put all that was left upon a business
basis.

Never had man a better friend than Terence Barrymore has in me; and my
whole attention on the way home was given to making him acknowledge it.

IV

A CHAPTER OF H