d know that a really absorbed and
happy child is almost portentously solemn. It hasn't the time to waste on
smiles; the building of sand castles and fortresses is infinitely too
engrossing an occupation. A smile will greet the anticipation; it is lost
in the stupendous joy of the fact. But as smiles are evidently considered
_de rigueur_ by the designers of posters, and as the mere anticipation
will not allow of the portrayal of the Rickett's blue sea, destined to
hit the eye of the beholder, smiles and sea have--rightly or wrongly--to
be combined.

Antony gazed at the sea, if not quite as blue as a poster sea, yet--as
already stated--amazingly blue. Josephus lay on a bit of hot earth
watching him, his nose between his forepaws, and quite exhausted after a
mad and wholly objectless ten minutes' race round the garden.

Antony turned from his contemplation of the sea, and once more grasped
his spade. Presently he turned up a small flat round object, which at
first sight he took to be a penny. He picked it up, and rubbed the dirt
off it. It proved to be merely a small lead disk, utterly useless and
valueless; he didn't even know what it could have been used for. He threw
it on the earth again, and went on with his digging. But it, or his
action of tossing it on to the earth, had started a train of thought. It
is extraordinary what trifles will serve to start a lengthy and connected
train of thought. Sometimes it is quite interesting, arriving at a
certain point, to trace one's imaginings backwards, and see from whence
they started.

The disk reminded Antony of the coppers he had tossed to the child at
Teneriffe. From it he quite unconsciously found himself reviewing all the
subsequent happenings. They linked on one to the other without a break.
He hardly knew he was reviewing them, though they so absorbed his mind
that he was totally unconscious of his surroundings, and even of the fact
that he was digging. His employment had become quite mechanical.

He was so engrossed that he did not hear a step in the road behind him.
Josephus heard it, however, and gave vent to a faint whine, raising his
head from between his paws. The sound roused Antony, and he turned.

His face went suddenly white beneath its bronze. The Duchessa di
Donatello was standing at the gate, looking over into the garden.

"Might I come in and rest a moment?" she asked. "The sun is so hot."

Antony could hardly believe his ears. Surely he could not ha