, and he was discussing it with the Enemy. She had
forced her horse to leap across a narrow fissure in the volcano the day
before. Falling, she would have gone to her death three hundred feet
below.

"She must be an out and out lunatic," the Enemy had said. Britt looked
quickly at Miss Pelham and Mr. Bowles. The former took down the
statement in shorthand and Bowles was afterward required to sign "his
deposition." Such a statement as that, coming from the source it did,
would be of inestimable value in Court.

"If they could only be married in some way," was Britt's private lament
to Saunders, from time to time, when despair overcame confidence.

"I've got a ripping idea," Saunders said one day.

"Let's have it. You've always got 'em. Why not divide with me?"

"Can't do it just yet. I've been looking up a little matter. I'll spring
it soon."

"How long have you been working on the idea?"

"Nearly four months," said Saunders, yawning.

"'Gad, this climate _is_ enervating," was Britt's caustic comment.

Saunders was heels over head in love with Miss Pelham at this time, so
it is not surprising that he had some sort of an idea about marriage, no
matter whom it concerned.

Night after night, the Deppinghams and Brownes gave dinners, balls,
musicales, "Bridges," masques and theatre suppers at the chateau. First
one would invite the other to a great ball, then the other would respond
by giving a sumptuous dinner. Their dinners were served with as much
punctiliousness as if the lordliest guests were present; their dancing
parties, while somewhat barren of guests, were never dull for longer
than ten minutes after they opened. Each lady danced twice and then
pleaded a headache. Whereupon the "function" came to a close.

For a while, the two hostesses were not in a position to ask any one
outside their immediate families to these functions, but one day Mrs.
Browne was seized by an inspiration. She announced that she was going to
send regular invitations to all of her friends at home.

"Regular written invitations, with five-cent stamps, my dear," she
explained enthusiastically. "Just like this: 'Mrs. Robert Browne
requests the pleasure of Miss So-and-so's company at dinner on the 17th
of Whatever-it-is. Please reply by return steamer.' Won't it be fun?
Bobby, please send down to the bank for the stamps. I'm going to make
out a list."

After that it was no unusual thing to see large packages of carefully
stamped en