coarse, food-loving, pushing, selfish creatures who cared nothing for
the beauty of the Riviera, and came only because of the cheap round
trip, and the hope of winning a few five-franc pieces. The real truth
was very different. The "pushing creatures" were selfish only because
they were not self-conscious. They were as perfectly happy as children.
They raved loudly in ecstasy over the beauty of everything, and were
blissfully ignorant that it was possible for any one to despise or hate
them. Frankly they admired Vanno and Mary, staring in the unblinking,
unashamed, beaming way that children have of regarding what interests
them; and their kind, unsnobbish hearts went out to the young couple as
no English hearts in the car went out.

Two persons sitting together at the other end, but on the same side as
the newcomers, could not see what the pair were like, without bending
forward and stretching out their necks. One of these, fired by the
intense interest displayed on German faces, could not resist the
temptation to be curious. She peered round the corner of a large,
well-filled overcoat from Berlin, and saw Mary and Vanno smiling at each
other, as oblivious of all observers as though they had the tram to
themselves.

"You must take a peep, St. George," she said in her husband's ear, that
she might be heard over the noise of the tram, without roaring. "It's
that beautiful Miss Grant I told you about; and she's with the Roman
Prince who invented the parachute Rongier used in the Nice 'flying
week.' They are certainly in love with each other! They couldn't look as
they do if they weren't. Perhaps they're engaged. Poor Dick! All his
trouble for nothing."

"Why poor Dick?" inquired the Reverend George Winter.

"Oh, my dear Saint, don't put on your long-distance manner, and forget
everything that hasn't a direct connection with heaven. But these two
quite look as if they'd just been up there by special aeroplane. Don't
you remember my telling you, Dick's awfully in love with this girl, and
took me to see her again yesterday, though she never returned my first
call? But I was glad I went, because she was really sweet and charming,
and I hated to think of her living in that deadly villa."

"Yes, I remember distinctly," said Winter, with a twinkle of humour in
the eyes which seemed always to see things that no one else could see.
"You told me when I was in the midst of writing a sermon, and had got to
a particularly knotty