Meanwhile, amid all these memories, it was necessary that some one should sustain conversation with the usual commonplaces; and of this Mrs. Meredith was fortunately fully capable. “I was never more surprised than when I looked up and saw Mr. Kyrle a few minutes ago,” she said to Aimée. “And yet there was really no reason to be surprised at all.” “Not in these days, when everybody goes everywhere,” said Lennox, “and the acquaintance one parted with in Europe yesterday, one meets to-morrow in China. Especially a wanderer like myself may be met anywhere.” “You are a wanderer, then?” said Aimée. “Yes,” he answered. “I am a person with whom you are intimately acquainted--‘our special correspondent,’ and therefore my duties take me to many places.” “They have brought you to a very delightful place now,” said she. “My own inclination has brought me here,” he replied, and as he uttered the words he saw a quick flash of suspicion in Percy Joscelyn’s eyes again. “Have you been here long?” asked Fanny. “_We_ came about a week ago; and we are doing our sight-seeing so leisurely that we have hardly as yet seen anything at all, except what can be perceived from a gondola.” “I arrived only a day or two ago from Alexandria,” answered Kyrle, “but I am inclined to think that, for a time, what one perceives from a gondola--that is, Venice herself--may be best of all.” “It is,” said Aimée. Upon which the young man beside her, speaking for the first time, observed: “It might be, if Venice were better preserved; but one grows tired of looking at so much decay. In fact, in my opinion, we have been here quite long enough.” “Then, my dear Percy,” said Mrs. Meredith, coolly, “I advise you to take your departure for any place that you like better, for we, who have come to Venice for a month, mean to stay.” It was not a very amiable glance which Mr. Joscelyn bestowed upon the speaker, but he did not answer save by this glance. He turned instead to Aimée, and said: “We seem to have lost the rest of our party. Shall we not go and look for them?” Before Aimée could reply to this proposal, the entrance of a party of four made reply unnecessary, for it was at once apparent that these were the missing persons whom it was proposed to seek. Yet they had the appearance themselves of seeking, rather than of needing to be sought, for as they entered they all looked around, and perceiving the group before the _Paradiso_, eagerly advanced toward it. The foremost of these newcomers was a tall, elaborately dressed young lady--young, at least by courtesy--whose commonplace prettiness was spoiled by an exceedingly artificial appearance and manner. With her were a faded, languid, elderly woman, possessing much natural elegance and traces of great beauty; a man of about sixty, carefully got up with padding and hair-dye to look not more than forty; and a rotund, florid, genial man of thirty-five or thereabouts. As these advanced the young lady spoke: