go without lunch than tea," said Mr. Venning. "That's not
strictly true. I want both."

Mr. Venning was a dark young man, about thirty-two years of age, very
slapdash and confident in his manner, although at this moment obviously
a little excited. His friend Mr. Perrott was a barrister, and as Mr.
Perrott refused to go anywhere without Mr. Venning it was necessary,
when Mr. Perrott came to Santa Marina about a Company, for Mr. Venning
to come too. He was a barrister also, but he loathed a profession which
kept him indoors over books, and directly his widowed mother died he was
going, so he confided to Susan, to take up flying seriously, and become
partner in a large business for making aeroplanes. The talk rambled on.
It dealt, of course, with the beauties and singularities of the place,
the streets, the people, and the quantities of unowned yellow dogs.

"Don't you think it dreadfully cruel the way they treat dogs in this
country?" asked Mrs. Paley.

"I'd have 'em all shot," said Mr. Venning.

"Oh, but the darling puppies," said Susan.

"Jolly little chaps," said Mr. Venning. "Look here, you've got nothing
to eat." A great wedge of cake was handed Susan on the point of a
trembling knife. Her hand trembled too as she took it.

"I have such a dear dog at home," said Mrs. Elliot.

"My parrot can't stand dogs," said Mrs. Paley, with the air of one
making a confidence. "I always suspect that he (or she) was teased by a
dog when I was abroad."

"You didn't get far this morning, Miss Warrington," said Mr. Venning.

"It was hot," she answered. Their conversation became private, owing
to Mrs. Paley's deafness and the long sad history which Mrs. Elliot had
embarked upon of a wire-haired terrier, white with just one black spot,
belonging to an uncle of hers, which had committed suicide. "Animals do
commit suicide," she sighed, as if she asserted a painful fact.

"Couldn't we explore the town this evening?" Mr. Venning suggested.

"My aunt--" Susan began.

"You deserve a holiday," he said. "You're always doing things for other
people."

"But that's my life," she said, under cover of refilling the teapot.

"That's no one's life," he returned, "no young person's. You'll come?"

"I should like to come," she murmured.

At this moment Mrs. Elliot looked up and exclaimed, "Oh, Hugh! He's
bringing some one," she added.

"He would like some tea," said Mrs. Paley. "Susan, run and get some
cups--there are the two young