The telegrams at Queenstown were not very reassuring, and Colonel Ogilvie and his party pressed on at once to Sorrento whence his wife had moved on the completion of her series of baths at Ischia. Naturally the whole of the little party was depressed, until on arrival they found Mrs. Ogilvie, who was something of a valetudinarian, much better than they expected. The arrival of her husband and daughter and sister seemed to complete her cure; she brightened up at once, and even after a few days began to enjoy herself. One day after lunch as she drove along the road to Amalfi with Judith and Joy--the Colonel was lazy that day and preferred to sit on the terrace over the sea and smoke--she began to ask all the details of the journey. Judy who had not had a chance of speaking alone with safety began to tell the little secret. Her method of commencement was abrupt, and somewhat startling to the convalescent: “We’ve got a husband for Joy, at last!” “Gracious!” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “What do you mean, Judy? Is this one of your pranks?” “Prank indeed!” she answered back, tossing her head. “A real live lord! A belted Earl if you please--whatever that may mean.” “Is this true, Joy?” said her mother beaming anxiously on her--if such a combination is understandable. Joy took her hand and stroked it lovingly: “Do you think, Mother dear, that if there was such a thing I should leave you all this time in ignorance of it. It is only a jest made up by the stewardess who attended us on the _Cryptic_. Aunt Judy seems to have taken it all in; I think dear you had better ask her; she seems to know all about it--which is certainly more than I do.” “And how did this common woman dare to jest on such a subject. I don’t think Judy that this would have happened had I been with her myself!” “Oh my dear, get off that high horse. There’s nothing to be alarmed about. The stewardess--who is a most worthy and attentive person----” “She is a dear!” interrupted Joy. “--took such a fancy to Joy that she said there was only ‘wan’ in all the world who was worthy of her--a young nobleman to whom she had been foster-mother. It was certainly meant as a very true compliment, and I am bound to say that if the young man merits a hundredth part of all she said of him there’s certainly no cause of offence in the mere mentioning his name.” “What is his name?” There was a shade of anxiety in the mother’s voice. “Lord Athlyne!” “The Earl of Athlyne!” said Joy speaking without thought. Then she turned quickly away to hide her blushing. “I--I--I really don’t understand!” said Mrs. Ogilvie, looking around helplessly. Then with the shadow of a shade of annoyance in her voice she went on: “I really think that in a serious matter of this kind I should have been consulted. But I seem not to count for anything any more. Colonel Ogilvie has not even mentioned the matter to me. I think I ought to have some say in anything of importance relating to my little girl.”