"On the Count's part?" asked the girl demurely.

"No, of course not--on the part of this chauffeur person."

"Oh, I like him," was the candid answer. "He is a chauffeur of moods, but he can make this car hum. He and I had quite a long chat last night after dinner."

Mrs. Devar sat up quickly.

"After dinner--last night!" she gasped.

"Yes--I ran into him outside the hotel."

"At what time?"

"About ten o'clock. I came to the lounge, but you had vanished, and the wonderful light on the sea drew me out of doors."

"My dear Cynthia!"

"Well, go on; that sounds like the beginning of a letter."

Mrs. Devar suddenly determined not to feel scandalized.

"Ah, well!" she sighed, "one must relax a little when touring, but you Americans have such free and easy manners that we staid Britons are apt to lose our breath occasionally when we hear of something out of the common."

"From what Fitzroy said when I told him I was going as far as the pier unaccompanied it seems to me that you staid Britons can be freer if not easier," retorted Miss Vanrenen.

Her friend smiled sourly.

"If he disapproved he was right, I admit," she purred.

Cynthia withheld any further confidences.

"What a splendid morning!" she said. "England is marvelously attractive on a day like this. And now, where is the map? I didn't look up our route yesterday evening. But Fitzroy has it. We lunch at Winchester, I know, and there I see my first English Cathedral. Father advised me to leave St. Paul's until I visit it with him. He says it is the most perfect building in the world architecturally, but that no one would realize it unless the facts were pointed out. When we were in Rome he said that St. Peter's, grand as it is, is all 

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