ck voice. "James doesn't care
about parties--or people----"

Barnard's lips parted to express surprise or sympathy; but she finished
her sentence hastily.

"--And of course I like what he likes."

Barnard bent his head.

"Of course," he said enigmatically, and dropped back into silence.

For a time he remained apparently absorbed in his dinner. Then, as
Clodagh began to wonder uncomfortably whether she had unwittingly
offended him, he turned to her again.

"Mrs. Milbanke," he said softly, "would you think me very presumptuous
if I were to make a little proposal?"

Clodagh brightened.

"Of course not! Say anything you like."

"You will be here for a week?"

"I--I hope so." She glanced covertly at Milbanke.

"Oh yes, you will! I shall arrange it."

She looked at him quickly.

"You?" she said. "How?"

"Never mind how!" He smiled reassuringly. "You will be here for a week;
and my proposal is that, while Milbanke is settling his business, I
should be allowed to introduce you to some English friends of mine who
are in Venice just now. It may be presumptuous, but I seem to feel"--he
hesitated for a moment--"I seem to feel that you want to make some new
friends--that you want to have a good time. Forgive my being so very
blunt!"

Clodagh sat silent. She felt no resentment at his words, but they
vaguely embarrassed her. The new possibility thrilled her; yet
insensibly she hesitated before it.

"But ought I to want new friends?" she asked at last in a very low and
undecided voice.

Barnard laid down the glass that he was lifting to his lips, and looked
at her quickly. Her freshness charmed, while her _naivete_ puzzled
him.

"Well, Mrs. Milbanke," he said suddenly, "suppose we find that out?"

And, leaning forward, he addressed Milbanke.

"James," he said, "I have just been making a little suggestion. While
you and I are putting our ancient heads together, don't you think Mrs.
Milbanke ought to study her Venice--local colour--atmosphere--all that
sort of thing?"

Milbanke turned in his seat.

"Eh, David?" he exclaimed. "What's that you say?"

"I was suggesting that Mrs. Milbanke should see a little of Venice now
that she is here."

He indicated the long windows of the dining-room through which the
sound of voices and music was already being borne on the purple
twilight.

Milbanke's face became slightly disturbed.

"Of course!--of course!" he said vaguely. "But--but neither of us care
much for