most to attract this one's notice.

'We can't stay here,' I whispered to the Professor; 'it is too
dreadful.'

'Dreadful? It is humanity, little cousin. Humanity at its happiest--in
other words, at its dinner.'

And he pulled off his cloak and hung up his hat with a brisk
cheerfulness at which I, who had just seen him striding about among
puddles, rent with vexation, could only marvel.

'But there is no room,' I objected.

'There is an ample sufficiency of room. We shall sit there in the corner
by the young lady in black.'

'Well, you go and sit there, and I'll go out into that porch place over
there, and get some air.'

'Never did I meet any one needing so much air. Air! Has thou not, then,
been aired the entire morning?'

But I made my way through the smoke to a door standing open at the other
end that led into a little covered place, through which was the garden.
I put my head gratefully round the corner to breathe the sweet air. The
garden is on the west side of the lighthouse on ground falling steeply
away to the flat of the cornfields that stretch between Arkona and
Putgarten. It is a pretty place full of lilies--in flower that day--and
of poplars, those most musical of trees. Rough steps cut in the side of
the hill lead down out of the garden to a footpath through the rye to
Putgarten; and on the top step, as straight and motionless as the
poplars, stood two persons under umbrellas, gazing in silence at the
view. Oh, unmistakable English backs! And most unmistakable of all
backs, the backs of the Harvey-Brownes.

I pulled my head into the porch again with a wrench, and instinctively
turned to flee; but there in the corner of the room sat the Professor,
and I could hear him being pleasant to the young person in the Alsatian
bow. I did not choose to interrupt him, for she was obviously Mrs.
Harvey-Browne's maid; but I did wonder whether the bishop had grieved at
all over the manifest unregeneracy of the way she did her hair.
Hesitating where to go, and sure of being ultimately caught wherever I
went, I peeped again in a sort of fascination at the two mackintoshed
figures outlined against the lowering heavens; and as so often happens,
the persons being looked at turned round.

'My _dear_ Frau X., you here too? When did you arrive in this terrible
place?' cried Mrs. Harvey-Browne, hurrying towards me through the rain
with outstretched hand and face made up of welcome and commiseration.
'This is too charm