All that care and kindness could provide waited on Mrs. Morris, as she was carried into the villa and laid on a bed. May Leslie took all upon herself, and while the doctor was sent for, used such remedies as she had near. It was at once decided that she should not be removed, and after some delay the company departed without her; the day that had dawned so pleasantly thus closing in gloom and sadness, and the party so bent on amusement returned homeward depressed and dispirited. “They 're mean vicious, these Alp dogs, and never to be trusted,” said Quackinboss. “Heroines will be heroines,” said Mrs. Morgan, gruffly. “Or rather won't be heroines when the occasion comes for it. She fainted off like a school-girl,” growled out Morgan. “I should think she did!” muttered Mosely, “when she felt the beast's teeth in her.” “A regular day of misfortunes!” repeated Agincourt. “And we lost the elegant fine luncheon, too, into the bargain,” said O'Shea. “Every one seemed to think it wouldn't be genteel to eat after the disaster.” “It is the fate of pleasure parties,” said Layton, moodily. And so they jogged on in silence. And thus ended a day of pleasure, as many have ended before it. Assuredly, they who plan picnics are not animated by the spirit of an actuary. There is a marvellous lack of calculation in their composition, since, of all species of entertainment, there exists not one so much at the mercy of accident, so thoroughly dependent for success on everything going right. Like the Walcheren expedition, the “wind must not only blow from the right point, but with a certain graduated amount of force.” What elements of sunshine and shade, what combinations of good spirits and good temper and good taste! what guidance and what moderation, what genius of direction and what “respect for minorities”! We will not enter upon the material sources of success, though, indeed, it should be owned they are generally better looked to, and more cared for, than the moral ingredients thus massed and commingled. It was late when the party reached the Bagni, and, wishing each other a half-cold good-night, separated. And now, one last peep at the villa, where we have left the sufferer. It was not until evening that the Heathcotes had so far recovered from the shock of the morning's disaster and its consequences as to be able to meet and talk over the events, and the actors in them. “Well,” said Sir William, as they all sat round the tea-table, “what do you say to my Yankee now? Of all that company, was there one that showed the same readiness in a difficulty, a quick-witted aptitude to do the right thing, and at the same time so unobtrusively and quietly that when everything was over it was hard to say who had done it?” “I call him charming. I'm in ecstasies with him,” said May, whose exaggerations of praise or censure were usually unbounded.