tout boots, and carried a
hefty ash stick, for she was essentially an out-of-door girl, though
at night she could put on a short and flimsy dance frock and look the
perfection of charm.

I took no notice of her remark, but purposely turned the conversation,
and as we strolled back together we discussed a dance which was to be
given two nights later by her friends the Fishers at Atherton Towers,
about five miles distant.

On the morning appointed I met old Mr. Lloyd, who, to my surprise, had
with him his niece, Miss Sylvia Andrews, a smart and pretty
dark-haired girl of about twenty-five.

"At the last moment Sylvia wanted to come with me to see Spain," the
old gentleman explained as we sat in the boat-train speeding towards
Dover. "I managed yesterday to get an extra sleeping-berth in the Sud
Express."

"I hope you will like Madrid, Miss Andrews," I said gallantly. "You
will find life there very bright and gay--quite an experience."

"I'm greatly looking forward to it," she said. "I've read all about
it, and though I've been in France and in Italy quite a lot, I've
never been in Spain, though I've always longed to see it."

"I propose we break our journey at San Sebastian," said Mr. Lloyd. "I
want to see the place, and the Casino which is making such a bid
against the counter-attraction of Monte Carlo. What do you say?"

"I'm quite agreeable," I replied. "A couple of days' delay makes no
difference to me. As long as I am in Madrid on the sixteenth it will
be all right. I have to attend a directors' meeting on behalf of Mr.
Rayne on that day."

"Good! uncle," cried the girl. "Then we'll break our journey at San
Sebastian, eh?"

And so it was arranged.

Two days later we stepped from the dusty sleeping-car in which we had
traveled from Paris, and soon found ourselves driving around a wide
bay with calm sapphire sea and golden sands--the far-famed La Concha.

We remained for two days at that luxurious hotel the Continental, on
the Paseo, and visited all the sights, including the Casino, where we
thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Old Mr. Lloyd was an amusing companion,
as I well knew, a man who seemed never tired notwithstanding his
advanced age, while his niece was a particularly jolly girl who
enjoyed every moment of her life.

Then we proceeded by the night express to Madrid.

Mr. Lloyd insisted that I should stay with them at the Ritz, but,
compelled to obey Rayne's instructions, I was forced to excuse myse