His visitor was somewhat startled by this forcible language, and he did not answer for a moment. He seemed to be attentively studying the pattern of the carpet. Presently he looked full at Dudley, and spoke somewhat sharply. "Knowing all you do, you think that possible?" "Knowing all I do, I think that more than possible." The man of the world sat for some time in silence, tapping his boot with a ruler he had taken from the writing-table. "I'll tell you what I can do for you," said Dudley suddenly. "I can give you the address of the Women's Medical School. Your niece is probably there." "Oh Lord, no! I am a brave man, but I am not equal to that. I would rather face a tiger in the jungle any day. Well, sir, I am sure I am infinitely obliged to you. I wish I could ask you to dine at my club, but I hope I shall see you when I am next in London. That is my card. Where's the little chap? Look here, my man! There is a Christmas-box for you, but if you ever get under my horses' feet again, I will drive right on; do you hear?" He shook hands cordially with Dudley, slipped a couple of guineas into his hand, and in another minute the impatient bays were dashing down the street. "Sir Douglas Munro," said Dudley, examining the card. "A magnificent specimen of the fine old Anglo-Indian type. I should like to see this wonderful niece of his!" CHAPTER XXXIV. PALM-TREES AND PINES. A world of palm-trees and pines, of aloes and eucalyptus, of luxuriant hedges all nodding and laughing with gay red roses, of white villas gleaming out from a misty background of olives, of cloudless sky looking down on the deep blue sea--a vivid sunshiny world, and in the midst of it all, Miss Lucy, to all appearance as gay and as light-hearted as if she had never dissected the pterygo-maxillary region, nor pored over the pages of Quain. The band was playing waltzes in the garden below, and Lucy, as she dressed, was dancing and swaying to and fro, like the roses in the wind. "_Entrez!_" she cried, without moderating her steps, as she heard a knock at the door. It was Evelyn, fair, tall, and somewhat severe. "You are not very like a medical student," she said gravely. "I should take that for an unmixed compliment, if I did not know what it meant." "What does it mean?" "That I am not in the least like Mona." "Well, you are not, you know." "True, _ma belle_. It was you who fitted on the lion's skin, not I. But did you come into my room just to tell me that?" "I came to say that if you can be ready in ten minutes, Father will take us all to Monte Carlo." "Ten minutes! Oh, Evelyn, and you have wasted one! What are you going to wear?" "This, of course. What should I wear?" Lucy selected a gown from her wardrobe. "But is not Sir Douglas still awfully tired with the journey?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to get a back view of her pretty skirt in the pier-glass.