NELSON VANDERLYN, still in his travelling clothes, paused on thethreshold of his own dining-room and surveyed the scene withpardonable satisfaction.

　　He was a short round man, with a grizzled head, small facetiouseyes and a large and credulous smile.

　　At the luncheon table sat his wife, between Charlie Streffordand Nick Lansing. Next to Strefford, perched on her high chair,Clarissa throned in infant beauty, while Susy Lansing cut up apeach for her. Through wide orange awnings the sun slanted inupon the white-clad group.

　　"Well--well--well! So I've caught you at it!" cried the happyfather, whose inveterate habit it was to address his wife andfriends as if he had surprised them at an inopportune moment.

　　Stealing up from behind, he lifted his daughter into the air,while a chorus of "Hello, old Nelson," hailed his appearance.

　　It was two or three years since Nick Lansing had seen Mr.

　　Vanderlyn, who was now the London representative of the big NewYork bank of Vanderlyn & Co., and had exchanged his sumptuoushouse in Fifth Avenue for another, more sumptuous still, inMayfair; and the young man looked curiously and attentively athis host.

　　Mr. Vanderlyn had grown older and stouter, but his face stillkept its look of somewhat worn optimism. He embraced his wife,greeted Susy affectionately, and distributed cordial hand-graspsto the two men.

　　"Hullo," he exclaimed, suddenly noticing a pearl and coraltrinket hanging from Clarissa's neck. "Who's been giving mydaughter jewellery, I'd like to know!""Oh, Streffy did--just think, father! Because I said I'd ratherhave it than a book, you know," Clarissa lucidly explained, herarms tight about her father's neck, her beaming eyes onStrefford.

　　Nelson Vanderlyn's own eyes took on the look of shrewdness whichcame into them whenever there was a question of material values.

　　"What, Streffy? Caught you at it, eh? Upon my soul-spoilingthe brat like that! You'd no business to, my dear chap-alovely baroque pearl--" he protested, with the half-apologetictone of the rich man embarrassed by too costly a gift from animpecunious friend.

　　"Oh, hadn't I? Why? Because it's too good for Clarissa, or tooexpensive for me? Of course you daren't imply the first; and asfor me--I've had a windfall, and am blowing it in on theladies."Strefford, Lansing had noticed, always used American slang whenhe was slightly at a loss, and wished to divert attention fromthe main point. But why was he embarrassed, whose attention didhe wish to divert, It was plain that Vanderlyn's protest hadbeen merely formal: like most of the wealthy, he had only thedimmest notion of what money represented to the poor. But itwas unusual for Strefford to give any one a present, andespecially an expensive one: perhaps that was what had fixedVanderlyn's attention.

　　"A windfall?" he gaily repeated.

　　"Oh, a tiny one: I was offered a thumping rent for my littleplace at Como, and dashed over here to squander my millions withthe rest of you," said Strefford imperturbably.

　　Vanderlyn's look immediately became interested and sympathetic.

　　"What--the scene of the honey-moon?" He included Nick and Susyin his friendly smile.

　　"Just so: the reward of virtue. I say, give me a cigar, willyou, old man, I left some awfully good ones at Como, worseluck--and I don't mind telling you that Ellie's no judge oftobacco, and that Nick's too far gone in bliss to care what hesmokes," Strefford grumbled, stretching a hand toward his host'scigar-case.

　　"I do like jewellery best," Clarissa murmured, hugging herfather.

　　Nelson Vanderlyn's first word to his wife had been that he hadbrought her all her toggery; and she had welcomed him withappropriate enthusiasm. In fact, to the lookers-on her joy atseeing him seemed rather too patently in proportion to hersatisfaction at getting her clothes. But no such suspicionappeared to mar Mr. Vanderlyn's happiness in being, for once,and for nearly twenty-four hours, under the same roof with hiswife and child. He did not conceal his regret at havingpromised his mother to join her the next day; and added, with awistful glance at Ellie: "If only I'd known you meant to waitfor me!"But being a man of duty, in domestic as well as businessaffairs, he did not even consider the possibility ofdisappointing the exacting old lady to whom he owed his being.

　　"Mother cares for so few people," he used to say, not without atouch of filial pride in the parental exclusiveness, "that Ihave to be with her rather more than if she were more sociable";and with smiling resignation he gave orders that Clarissa shouldbe ready to start the next evening.

　　"And meanwhile," he concluded, "we'll have all the good timethat's going."The ladies of the party seemed united in the desire to furtherthis resolve; and it was settled that as soon as Mr. Vanderlynhad despatched a hasty luncheon, his wife, Clarissa and Susyshould carry him off for a tea-picnic at Torcello. They did noteven suggest that Strefford or Nick should be of the party, orthat any of the other young men of the group should be summoned;as Susy said, Nelson wanted to go off alone with his harem. AndLansing and Strefford were left to watch the departure of thehappy Pasha ensconced between attentive beauties.

　　"Well--that's what you call being married!" Streffordcommented, waving his battered Panama at Clarissa.

　　"Oh, no, I don't!" Lansing laughed.

　　"He does. But do you know--" Strefford paused and swung abouton his companion--"do you know, when the Rude Awakening comes, Idon't care to be there. I believe there'll be some crockerybroken.""Shouldn't wonder," Lansing answered indifferently. He wanderedaway to his own room, leaving Strefford to philosophize to hispipe.

　　Lansing had always known about poor old Nelson: who hadn't,except poor old Nelson? The case had once seemed amusingbecause so typical; now, it rather irritated Nick that Vanderlynshould be so complete an ass. But he would be off the next day,and so would Ellie, and then, for many enchanted weeks, thepalace would once more be the property of Nick and Susy. Of allthe people who came and went in it, they were the only ones whoappreciated it, or knew how it was meant to be lived in; andthat made it theirs in the only valid sense. In this light itbecame easy to regard the Vanderlyns as mere transientintruders.

　　Having relegated them to this convenient distance, Lansing shuthimself up with his book. He had returned to it with freshenergy after his few weeks of holiday-making, and was determinedto finish it quickly. He did not expect that it would bring inmuch money; but if it were moderately successful it might givehim an opening in the reviews and magazines, and in that case hemeant to abandon archaeology for novels, since it was only as apurveyor of fiction that he could count on earning a living forhimself and Susy.

　　Late in the afternoon he laid down his pen and wandered out ofdoors. He loved the increasing heat of the Venetian summer, thebruised peach-tints of worn house-fronts, the enamelling ofsunlight on dark green canals, the smell of half-decayed fruitsand flowers thickening the languid air. What visions he couldbuild, if he dared, of being tucked away with Susy in the atticof some tumble-down palace, above a jade-green waterway, with aterrace overhanging a scrap of neglected garden--and chequesfrom the publishers dropping in at convenient intervals! Whyshould they not settle in Venice if he pulled it off!

　　He found himself before the church of the Scalzi, and pushingopen the leathern door wandered up the nave under the whirl ofrose-and-lemon angels in Tiepolo's great vault. It was not achurch in which one was likely to run across sight-seers; but hepresently remarked a young lady standing alone near the choir,and assiduously applying her field-glass to the celestialvortex, from which she occasionally glanced down at an openmanual.

　　As Lansing's step sounded on the pavement, the young lady,turning, revealed herself as Miss Hicks.

　　"Ah--you like this too? It's several centuries out of yourline, though, isn't it!" Nick asked as they shook hands.

　　She gazed at him gravely. "Why shouldn't one like things thatare out of one's line?" she answered; and he agreed, with alaugh, that it was often an incentive.

　　She continued to fix her grave eyes on him, and after one or tworemarks about the Tiepolos he perceived that she was feeling herway toward a subject of more personal interest.

　　"I'm glad to see you alone," she said at length, with anabruptness that might have seemed awkward had it not been socompletely unconscious. She turned toward a cluster of strawchairs, and signed to Nick to seat himself beside her.

　　"I seldom do," she added, with the serious smile that made herheavy face almost handsome; and she went on, giving him no timeto protest: "I wanted to speak to you--to explain aboutfather's invitation to go with us to Persia and Turkestan.&q............