ut I firmly believe you can evolve them out of your inner
consciousness. You wouldn't have me lose faith in you?"

"No," said Felicite, whose eyes suddenly brightened with the rapt look
of one inspired. "No; I would not have Monsieur lose faith. I will do
what I can, as Monsieur says, for the honour of the house. Let him go
now to his friends, and make his mind easy. In a quarter of an hour, or
twenty minutes at most, he shall have a feef o'clocky for which he need
not blush."

"Angel!" I ejaculated fervently, patting the substantial shoulder, so
much to be depended upon. Then with a buoyant step I hastened round the
house to rejoin the party in the front garden, where, I anxiously
realized, the tables might have been completely turned during my
absence.

Ready to hurl myself into the breach, if there were one, I came round
the corner of the villa, to meet the unexpected. I had left Terry with
three ladies; I found him with seven.

Evidently he had gone into the drawing-room and fetched chairs, for they
were all sitting down, but they were not being sociable. Mrs. Kidder's
round chin was in the air, and she wore an "I'm as good as you are, if
not better" expression. The imps in Beechy's eyes were critically
cataloguing each detail of the strangers' costumes, and Miss Destrey was
interested in the yellow cat, who had come to tell her the tragic tale
of the stolen mouse.

The new arrivals were English. I can't explain exactly how I knew that,
the moment I clapped eyes on them, but I did; and I felt sure their
nearest male relative must have made money in beer, pickles, or it might
have been corsets or soap. They were that kind; and they had a great
many teeth, especially the daughters, who all three looked exactly
thirty, no more and no less, and were apparently pleasantly conscious of
superlative virtue.

I could see the house they lived in, in England. It would be in
Surbiton, of course, with "extensive grounds." There would be a
Debrett's "Peerage," and a Burke's "Landed Gentry," and a volume of
"Etiquette of Smart Society" on the library shelves, if there was
nothing else; and in the basket on the hall table the visiting cards of
any titled beings of the family's acquaintance would invariably rise to
the top like cream.

"I understand from your friend that it is your advertisement which
appears in _The Riviera Sun_ to-day," began the Mother, whose aspect
demanded a capital M. "You are Sir Ralph Moray, I belie