p to the villa. It was generally too much
of a climb for her. Nora and Celeste preferred to walk.

"What am I going to do, Celeste? He is here, and over at Cadenabbia last
night I had a terrible scene with him. In heaven's name, why can't they
let me be?"

"Herr Rosen?"

"Yes."

"Why not speak to your father?"

"And have a fisticuff which would appear in every newspaper in the world?
No, thank you. There is enough scandalous stuff being printed as it is,
and I am helpless to prevent it."

As the climb starts off stiffly, there wasn't much inclination in either
to talk. Celeste had come to one decision, and that was that Nora should
find out Courtlandt's presence here in Bellaggio herself. When they
arrived at the villa gates, Celeste offered a suggestion.

"You could easily stop all this rumor and annoyance."

"And, pray, how?"

"Marry."

"I prefer the rumor and annoyance. I hate men. Most of them are beasts."

"You are prejudiced."

If Celeste expected Nora to reply that she had reason, she was
disappointed, Nora quickened her pace, that was all.

At luncheon Harrigan innocently threw a bomb into camp by inquiring: "Say,
Nora, who's this chump Herr Rosen? He was up here last night and again
this morning. I was going to offer him the cot on the balcony, but I
thought I'd consult you first."

"Herr Rosen!" exclaimed Mrs. Harrigan, a flutter in her throat. "Why,
that's...."

"A charming young man who wishes me to sign a contract to sing to him in
perpetuity," interrupted Nora, pressing her mother's foot warningly.

"Well, why don't you marry him?" laughed Harrigan. "There's worse things
than frankfurters and sauerkraut."

"Not that I can think of just now," returned Nora.

CHAPTER XI

AT THE CRATER'S EDGE

Harrigan declared that he would not go over to Caxley-Webster's to tea.

"But I've promised for you!" expostulated his wife. "And he admires you
so."

"Bosh! You women can gad about as much as you please, but I'm in wrong
when it comes to eating sponge-cake and knuckling my knees under a dinky
willow table. And then he always has some frump...."

"Frump!" repeated Nora, delighted.

"Frump inspecting me through a pair of eye-glasses as if I was a new kind
of an animal. It's all right, Molly, when there's a big push. They don't
notice me much then. But these six by eight parties have me covering."

"Very well, dad," agreed Nora, who saw the storm gathering in her mother's
eyes. "Y