for such a lot of calculation," she
said sharply. "Good-night, Mr. Fitzroy. I hope you are punctual
morning-time. When there is a date to be kept, I'm a regular alarm
clock, my father says."

She sped across the road, and into the hotel. Then Medenham noticed
how dark it had become--reminded him of the tropics, he thought--and
made for his own caravanserai, while his brain was busy with a number
of disturbing but nebulous problems that seemed to be pronounced in
character yet singularly devoid of a beginning, a middle, or an end.
Indeed, so puzzling and contradictory were they that he soon fell
asleep. When he rose at seven o'clock next morning the said problems
had vanished. They must have been part and parcel with the glamor of a
June night, and a starlit sky, and the blue depths of the sea and of a
girl's eyes, for the wizard sun had dispelled them long ere he awoke.
But he did not telegraph to Simmonds.

Dale brought the car to the Grand Hotel in good time, and Medenham ran
it some distance along the front before drawing up at the Metropole.
By that means he dissipated any undue curiosity that might be
experienced by some lounger on the pavement who happened to notice the
change of chauffeurs, while he avoided a prolonged scrutiny by the
visitors already packed in chairs on both sides of the porch. He kept
his face hidden during the luggage strapping process, and professed
not to be aware of Cynthia's presence until she bade him a cheery
"Good-morning."

Of course, Marigny was there, and Mrs. Devar gushed loudly for the
benefit of the other people while settling herself comfortably in the
tonneau.

"It was awfully devey of you, Count Edouard, to enliven our first
evening away from town. No such good fortune awaits us in Bournemouth,
I am afraid."

"If I am to accept that charming reference as applying to myself, I
can only say that _my_ good fortune has exhausted itself already,
madame," said the Frenchman. "When do you return to London?"

"About the end of next week," put in Cynthia.

"And your father--that delightful Monsieur Vanrenen," said the Count,
breaking into French, "he will join you there?"

"Oh, yes. My father and I are seldom separated a whole fortnight."

"Then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you there. I go to-day to
Salisbury--after that, to Hereford and Liverpool."

"Why, we shall be in Hereford one day soon. What fun if we met again!"

Marigny looked to heaven, or as far in the d