Going about thus in my boat, I rowed sleepiness into myself, and pushed into a nook where shade from some thick growth hid the boat and me from the sun; and there, almost enmeshed in the deep lattice of green, I placed my coat beneath my head, and prone in the boat’s bottom I drifted into slumber. Once or twice my oblivion was pierced by the roaming honk of the automobile; but with no more than the half-melted consciousness that the Replacers were somewhere in the wood, oblivion closed over me again; and when it altogether left me, it was because of voices near me on the water, or on the bank. Their calls and laughter pushed themselves into my drowsiness, and soon after I grew aware that the Replacers were come here to see what was to be seen at Udolpho--the club, the old church, a country place with a fine avenue--and that it was the church they now couldn’t get into, because my visit had disturbed the usual whereabouts of the key, of which Gazza was now going in search. I could have told him where to find it, but it pleased me not to disturb myself for this, as I listened to him assuring Kitty that it was probably in the cabin beyond the bridge, but not to be alarmed if he did not immediately return with it. Kitty, not without audible mirth, assured him that they should not be alarmed at all, to which the voice of Hortense supplemented, “Not at all.” They were evidently in a boat, which Hortense herself was rowing, and which she seemed to bring to the bank, where I gathered that Kitty got out and sat while Hortense remained in the boat. There was the little talk and movement which goes with borrowing of a cigarette, a little exclamation about not falling out, accompanied by the rattle of a displaced oar, and then stillness, and the smell of tobacco smoke. Presently Kitty spoke. “Charley will be back to-night.” To this I heard no reply. “What did his telegram say?” Kitty inquired, after another silence. “It’s all right.” This was Hortense. Her slow, rich murmur was as deliberate as always. “Mr. Bohm knew it would be,” said Kitty. “He said it wouldn’t take five minutes’ talk from Charley to get a contract worth double what they were going to accept.” After this, nothing came to me for several minutes, save the odor of the cigarettes. Of course there was now but one proper course for me, namely, to utter a discreet cough, and thus warn them that some one was within earshot. But I didn’t! I couldn’t! Strength failed, curiosity won, my baser nature triumphed here, and I deliberately remained lying quiet and hidden. It was the act of no gentleman, you will say. Well, it was; and I must simply confess to it, hoping that I am not the only gentleman in the world who has, on occasion, fallen beneath himself. “Hortense Rieppe,” began Kitty, “what do you intend to say to my brother after what he has done about those phosphates?” “He is always so kind,” murmured Hortense. “Well, you know what it means.” “Means?”