e attitude.
He, too, on more than one occasion confessed that matrimony was a
state overvaunted.

"Praise married life by all means, Signor Marco," he said,
"but--keep single. Peace, my friend, is the highest happiness, and
the rarest."

The days passed and presently, without any warning, Albert Redmayne
and the American suddenly reappeared. They arrived at Menaggio after
noon.

Mr. Redmayne was in the highest spirits and delighted to be home
again. He knew nothing about Peter's operations and cared less. His
visit to England was spent at London, where he had renewed
acquaintance with certain book collectors, seen and handled many
precious things, and surprised and gratified himself to observe his
own physical energies and enterprise.

"I am still wonderfully strong, Jenny," he told his niece. "I have
been most active in mind and body and am by no means so far down the
hill of old age, that ends by the River of Lethe, as I imagined."

He made a good meal, and then, despite the long night in the train,
insisted on sending for a boat and crossing the water to Bellagio.

"I have a present for my Poggi," he said, "and I cannot sleep until
I hear his voice and hold his hand."

Ernesto went for a waterman and soon a boat waited at the steps,
which descended from Mr. Redmayne's private apartments to the lake.
He rowed away and Brendon, who had come to see Doria and found to
his surprise that Redmayne and Peter were back again, anticipated
some private hours with Mr. Ganns. But the traveller was weary and,
after one of Assunta's famous omelettes and three glasses of white
wine, he declared that he must retire and sleep as long as nature
ordained slumber.

He spoke before the listening Giuseppe, but addressed his remarks to
Brendon.

"I'm exceedingly short of rest," he said. "Whether I have done the
least good by my inquiries remains to be seen. To be frank, I doubt
it. We'll have a talk to-morrow, Mark; and maybe Doria will remember
a thing or two that happened at 'Crow's Nest' and so help me. But
until I have slept I am useless."

He withdrew presently, carrying his notebook in his hand, while
Brendon, promising to return after breakfast on the following
morning, strolled to the silkworm house where the last of the
caterpillars had spun its golden shroud. He was not depressed by the
weary tones of Peter's voice nor the discouraging nature of his
brief statement, for, while speaking, Mr. Ganns had discounted his