peacefully, had we been
alone, but Gaeta elected to find Annecy "dull." There was nothing to
do but take walks, or sit by the lake, or drive for lunch to the Beau
Rivage, or go out for an afternoon's trip in one of the little
steamers. Beautiful? Oh, yes; but quiet places made one want to scream
or stand on one's head when one had been in them a day or two. It
would be much more amusing at Aix. There were the Casinos, and the
_fetes de nuit_, with lots of coloured lanterns in the gardens, and
fireworks, and music; and then, the baccarat! That was amusing, if
you liked, for half an hour, and when you were bored there was always
something else. She must really get to Aix, and see that the Villa
Santa Lucia was in order. We would promise--promise--_promise_ to
follow at once? We would find our rooms at her villa ready, with
flowers in them for a welcome, and we must not be too long on the way.

Gaeta left in the evening, the Boy and I seeing her off at the train;
and twelve hours later we started for Chatelard, Joseph taking us away
from the highroads--which would have been perfect for Molly's
Mercedes--along certain romantic by-paths which he knew from former
journeys. Conversation no longer made itself between us; we had to
make it, and in the manufacturing process I mentioned my "friends who
were motoring."

"They may turn up before long now," I said, "judging from the plans
they wrote of in a letter I had from them at Aosta. It's just possible
that they will pass through Aix. You would like them."

"I have run away from my own friends, and--gone rather far to do it,"
said the Boy. "Yet I seem destined to meet other people's. It was with
very different intentions that I set out on this journey of mine."

"'Journeys end in lovers' meetings,'" I quoted carelessly. "Perhaps
yours will end so."

"I thought I had done with lovers," said the Boy, with one of his odd
smiles.

"You're not old enough to begin with them yet."

"I was thinking of--my sister. Her experience was a lesson in love I'm
not likely to forget soon. Yet sometimes I--I'm not sure I learned the
lesson in the right way. But we won't talk of that. Tell me about
your friends. I'm becoming inured to social duties now."

"You don't seem to find them too onerous. As for my friends--they're
an old chum of mine, Jack Winston, and his bride of a few months, the
most exquisite specimen of an American girl I ever met. Perhaps you
may have heard of her. She's