in--if you are nice
and do not bore me between now and then," and she glanced up at him
slyly. "I have an old companion, Madame Imogen Aubert--who lives with me
there--and she always hopes I shall one day have visitors!"

Lord Fordyce promised he would be a pure sage, and if she would put him
on probation, and really take pains to sample his capabilities of not
boring in a few more walks, he would come up for judgment at Heronac
when it was her good pleasure to name a date.

"I shall be there toward the middle of August. After we leave here, the
Princess and dear Cloudie go to Italy with her little son, the baby
Torniloni: he is such a darling, nearly three years old--he is at
Heronac now with his nurses."

"And you go back to Brittany alone?"

"Yes----"

"Then I shall come, too."

"If, at the end of your cure, you have not bored me!"

By this time they had got down to the Savoy gate--and there found
Moravia and Mr. Cloudwater waiting for them on the balcony--clamoring
for lunch.

Princess Torniloni gave a swift, keen glance at the two who had
entered, but she did not express the thought which came to her.

"It is rather hard that Sabine, who does not want him and is not free to
have him, should have drawn him instead of me."

That night in the restaurant there came in and joined their party one of
those American men who are always to be met with in Paris or Aix or
Carlsbad or Monte Carlo, at whatever in any of these places represents
the Ritz Hotel, one who knew everybody and everything, a person of no
particular sex, but who always would make a party go with his stories
and his gaiety, and help along any hostess. Cranley Beaton was this
one's name. The Cloudwater party were all quite glad to welcome him and
hear news of their friends. One or two decent people had arrived that
afternoon also, and Moravia felt she could be quite amused and wear her
pretty clothes. Sabine hated the avalanches of dinners and lunches and
what not this would mean. Her sense of humor was very highly developed,
and she often laughed in a fond way over her friend, who was, in her
search for pleasure, still as keen as she had been in convent days.

"You do remain so young, Morri!" she told her, as they linked arms going
up to bed. Their rooms were on the first floor, and they disdained the
lift. "Do you remember, you used to be the mother to all of us at St.
Anne's--and now I am the mother of us two!"

"You are an old, wise-head