s with you."

"No, he wasn't, but he sent a man to translate the _patois_, for the old
Gonzales can't speak much French; and it was lucky we had this man to
take our part, because of a big caroubier-tree on the place which
belongs to a distant cousin of the Gonzales, and has been in his family
for generations. Vanno must buy it separately, otherwise the owner will
have a right to come and beat it all night if he likes, or tether
animals under the branches. Fortunately the cure's friend warned us in
time."

"Gonzales is rather a celebrated old chap," George Winter remarked,
composing his mind as Mary talked on. "He made a reputation by refusing
a fortune in order to keep a tiny _baraque_ of a house which he and his
wife had lived in for forty years."

"So he told us," said Vanno. "A wonderful story; it sounded too good to
be true."

"Was it about the Russian countess who wanted to buy a large piece of
land, and all the other peasant owners were keen to sell, except
Gonzales, who had a bit about twenty yards square, exactly in the
middle?" asked Rose.

"Yes, and the countess went up and up in her bidding from two thousand
francs to four hundred thousand; but Gonzales wouldn't sell, because he
liked the view. He told us that he still lives in the _baraque_, though
he owns other houses and much land."

"Perfectly true," said Rose. "I walk up and chat with him sometimes.
He's very rich for a peasant, and shrewd, though stupid too, for he has
a horror of banks and hides his money heaven knows where. He had
thousands of francs in banknotes in a cellar among his potatoes, and
they were all eaten by rats; but he only shrugged his shoulders and said
'twas no worse than having them devoured by speculators. Oh, these
peasants of the Riviera are wonderful!"

"Vanno and I will make friends with them when we have a house up there,"
said Mary. "Maybe it will be ready next year. Who knows? Vanno says we
must come every season, if only for a few weeks, just to show ourselves
that we care for other things than the Casino. And then, how delightful
to see our friends! You, who have been so good to me, and Captain
Hannaford, if he's living in his Italian chateau----"

"Dear, he won't be there," said Rose, laying her hand on Mary's, as the
two sat together on the flowery chintz sofa.

"Why--what makes you think that?" Mary asked quickly, noticing at last
the pallor of Rose's face.

"I don't think. I know. George and I have been w