ee you later," she added, and they rode off, leaving him
smiling after them, bare-headed in the sunlight.

"Most charming man I ever met!" exclaimed Miss Watts.

"Umm-m," said Isabelle.

It was like a miracle to step out on to the terrace of the hotel, after
dinner that night. To have left New York on a cold, raw fall day, and in
two days to find oneself in this warm, odorous night air. The band
played, and white-clad figures walked, danced, sat in groups over
coffee. Everywhere relaxed, happy, laughing people.

It was not the season on the island but so many English officers came to
recuperate here, so many Americans, shut out of Europe, came down from
New York for a week or so, that it was unusually gay.

Mrs. Darlington and Captain O'Leary were dancing when Miss Watts and
Isabelle entered the large gallery at the edge of the platform. Mrs.
Darlington was regal in evening dress, and the pair attracted much
attention as they danced. The Captain bowed as he passed and evidently
spoke to his partner about them, for she glanced back at them. She
shrugged her shoulders, and he led her in their direction.

"Lovely night, isn't it? Mrs. Darlington, Miss Watts and Miss Bryce," he
said.

"I tried to meet Miss Bryce on the boat, but she snubbed me," laughed
Mrs. Darlington, making Isabelle feel very young and crude.

Isabelle frowned and made no denial, so Captain O'Leary remarked:

"Do you disdain the dance, Miss Bryce?"

"No."

"Would you honour me?"

Isabelle glanced at Miss Watts, who looked uncomfortable.

"Isabelle is not out yet. Her mother wishes her to be inconspicuous
here," she began.

"Imagine Isabelle inconspicuous," laughed Mrs. Darlington again.

Isabelle decided that she hated her!

"But it's different out here--it's not a ball room, ye know. It's just
dancin' round," said the Irishman.

"Yes, that's true. Oh, I think it would be all right," agreed Miss
Watts, unable to deny him the moon, if he asked for it.

"The next then, Miss Bryce?"

"Thank you," she said.

He went away with his partner, who was decidedly bored with the
conversation.

"Surly little thing," she remarked, audibly.

"She is certainly a beautiful woman," Miss Watts remarked, looking after
them.

"Beautiful? Oh, yes, if you like a vamp."

"A what?"

"Vampire; you see them in movies."

"Isabelle!" protested the older woman.

They strolled about, drank in the rich tropical perfume of the night, and
looked off t