Mr Golightly whistled softly to himself for a minute or two; then he muttered: ‘Wretched slow work watching another fellow spoon and not be able to join in the fun one’s self! That must be the girl. By Jove! Master Archie seems about as hard hit as I am.’ This latter remark was elicited by the sight of Mr Ridsdale sidling up to Miss Loraine with the evident intention of encircling her waist with his arm; but, as we have already seen, he was very properly repulsed. Presently Clarice rose and gathered up her heap of ferns and grasses. ‘You are not going indoors already, Clarice?’ ‘Already! Commend me to your sex for being unreasonable. A pretty scolding I shall get from Mora for having been out so long.’ ‘I don’t believe Madame De Vigne could scold any one, were she to try ever so much.’ ‘You don’t know her. She has a terrible temper. It runs in the family.’ ‘I am glad you have told me. I shall be prepared for the worst.—We shall meet again at the table-d’hôte; meanwhile, I’ll go and look after the postman.’ ‘Should there be a letter, you will let me know as soon as possible?’ ‘Never fear.’ With a smile and a nod, she left him, and speeding across the lawn, entered the hotel by a French-window, one of a number which stood wide open this sunny afternoon. Archie gazed after her admiringly till she was out of sight. Then he buried his hands in his pockets and turned and sauntered slowly up towards the main entrance to the hotel. ‘Ah! here’s Ridsdale coming this way,’ exclaimed Mr Golightly. ‘Wonder whether he’ll know me? What larks!’ But Mr Ridsdale was thinking his own thoughts, and he passed Mr Golightly, who was apparently deep in the perusal of his sober-looking volume, as though there was no such person in existence. But he had not got more than a few yards beyond the tree when he heard himself called. ‘Archie, dear!’ cried some one softly. If it were not a feminine voice that spoke, it was a very good imitation of one. Mr Ridsdale started, and turned. Beyond two or three loungers round the door of the hotel, some distance away, not a creature was visible save the clerical-looking young man seated under the tree and intent on his book. Archie’s eyes struck fire and his face flamed suddenly. He advanced three or four paces. ‘Did you address that remark to me, sir?’ he sternly demanded. ‘Of course I did, sir,’ answered Mr Golightly, looking up innocently in the other’s face. Then before Archie’s wrath had time to explode, he flung down his book and started laughingly to his feet. ‘Ridsdale, old chappie, how de do?’ he exclaimed. ‘Awfully glad to meet you. Don’t you know me?’ ‘No, sir, I do not know you,’ answered Archie with a cold stare. ‘Never saw you before in my life, that I’m aware of.’ ‘What! Not recollect Dick Dulcimer?’ ‘Dick Dulcimer! You!’ eyeing him from top to toe. ‘It can’t be.’ ‘But it is—at least I’ve every reason to believe so, and _I_ think I ought to know.’ ‘But’——, and again he eyed him critically over.