perfectly affable and at her ease with those whom she looked upon as undoubtedly her social inferiors.

They were not mistaken in their prediction that the party from the yacht would come up to the Cappuccini. Half an hour after the yacht had dropped anchor the terrace was invaded. They came up in twos and threes, nearly a dozen of them, men and women, smart-looking people with healthy, sun-burnt faces, voices loud from the sea as voices become on a long voyage—or else very low indeed. By contrast with the frequenters of Amalfi they all seemed to wear overpoweringly good clothes and perfectly new hats and caps, and their russet shoes were resplendent. They moved as though everything belonged to them, from the wild crests of the hills above to the calm blue water below, and the hotel servants did their best to foster the agreeable illusion. They all wanted chairs, and tables, and things to drink, and fruit. One very fair little lady with hard, restless eyes, and clad in white serge, insisted upon having grapes, and no one could convince her that grapes were not ripe in May.

“It’s quite absurd!” she objected. “Of course they’re ripe! We had the most beautiful grapes at breakfast at Leo Cairngorm’s the other day, so of course they must have them here. Brook! Do tell the man not to be absurd!”

“Man!” said the member of the party she had last addressed. “Do not be absurd!”

“Sì, Signore,” replied the black-whiskered Amalfitan servant with alacrity.

“You see!” cried the little lady triumphantly. “I told you so! You must insist with these people. You can always get what you want. Brook, where’s my fan?”

She settled upon a straw chair—like a white butterfly. The others walked on towards the end of the terrace, but the young man whom she called Brook stood beside her, slowly lighting a cigarette, not five paces from Mrs. Bowring and Clare.

“I’m sure I don’t know where your fan is,” he said, with a short laugh, as he threw the end of the match over the wall.

  

“Well then, look for it!” she answered, rather sharply. “I’m awfully hot, and I want it.”

He glanced at her before he spoke again.

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