herly interest in Clarissa Vanderlyn. He was always
charming to children, but fitfully and warily, with an eye on his
independence, and on the possibility of being suddenly bored by them;
Susy had never seen him abandon these precautions so completely as he
did with Clarissa.

"Poor little devil! Who looks after her when you and Nick are off
together? Do you mean to tell me Ellie sacked the governess and went
away without having anyone to take her place?"

"I think she expected me to do it," said Susy with a touch of asperity.
There were moments when her duty to Clarissa weighed on her somewhat
heavily; whenever she went off alone with Nick she was pursued by the
vision of a little figure waving wistful farewells from the balcony.

"Ah, that's like Ellie: you might have known she'd get an equivalent
when she lent you all this. But I don't believe she thought you'd be so
conscientious about it."

Susy considered. "I don't suppose she did; and perhaps I shouldn't have
been, a year ago. But you see"--she hesitated--"Nick's so awfully good:
it's made me look; at a lot of things differently...."

"Oh, hang Nick's goodness! It's happiness that's done it, my dear.
You're just one of the people with whom it happens to agree."

Susy, leaning back, scrutinized between her lashes his crooked ironic
face.

"What is it that's agreeing with you, Streffy? I've never seen you so
human. You must be getting an outrageous price for the villa."

Strefford laughed and clapped his hand on his breast-pocket. "I should
be an ass not to: I've got a wire here saying they must have it for
another month at any price."

"What luck! I'm so glad. Who are they, by the way?"

He drew himself up out of the long chair in which he was disjointedly
lounging, and looked down at her with a smile. "Another couple of
love-sick idiots like you and Nick.... I say, before I spend it all
let's go out and buy something ripping for Clarissa."

The days passed so quickly and radiantly that, but for her concern
for Clarissa, Susy would hardly have been conscious of her hostess's
protracted absence. Mrs. Vanderlyn had said: "Four weeks at the latest,"
and the four weeks were over, and she had neither arrived nor written
to explain her non-appearance. She had, in fact, given no sign of life
since her departure, save in the shape of a post-card which had
reached Clarissa the day after the Lansings' arrival, and in which Mrs.
Vanderlyn instructed her child to