"Rather a tall order!--Where shall I start?" "At the beginning." She looked at him curiously. "Tell us first why you deserted London?" "To nurse my broken heart, of course. You seem to forget Cydonia." "My dear Peter!"--she laughed back. "I don't believe that. I knew you were only flirting. She's pretty of course, but oh! so _dull_--and think of Cadell! What a father-in-law." The Bishop frowned. "I assure you they're excellent people, Laura. I've the greatest respect for Mrs. Cadell." "She's got a good cook," said his cousin wickedly. McTaggart threw himself into the pause that followed. "Well--I went the usual round--Rome, Florence, Siena"--he laughed--"and Venice of course--and Naples." Here he paused, checked by some memory, evidently funny, smiling to himself. "Out with it!" Lady Leason was watching his handsome face. "I feel a distinct 'pricking in my thumbs.' Oh, Bertram won't mind"--as she saw him glance at the Bishop--"I'll answer for him--he's never shocked!" "Really, Laura!" her cousin protested. "Man of the world--and a darling too." She gave him a look of real affection. The Bishop blinked--"Well, Mr. McTaggart?" "I was thinking of an adventure there"--Peter admitted--"nothing 'tres moutarde' ... but perhaps ... I'd better not." "_Do_." Lady Leason drew the liqueurs nearer. "Some old brandy might give you courage?" McTaggart was tempted. He saw in his mind a way of wrapping up the weak point in the story. "Well--I'll risk it!" He emptied the glass, crossed his long legs and faced his audience. "It happened on my first visit to Naples--I was yachting with some Roman friends, the Vivianis. The party consisted of my host and hostess and a man called Bellanti, his sister and myself. We touched there one evening to get supplies on our way back from Sicily, about nine o'clock. I remember Scirocco had blown all day--it was frightfully hot--we were all pretty limp. Viviani wouldn't stir and the Countess wanted bridge. They were four with Bellanti, so I thought I'd go ashore. "I must say they did their best to dissuade me, and, of course, I'd heard no end of yarns about Naples at night, but I thought they were just travellers' stories! We lay a good way out in the Bay. It's awfully smelly right in the harbour. But I rowed in with four of the crew, who were to wait and bring me back. "Well, I wandered about until I was tired. The town didn't much appeal to me, and then suddenly I remembered an address a naval friend had given me--of a sort of dancing-place--rather like the 'Bal Tabarin,' you know." "Bertram doesn't know," said Lady Leason gravely. "Yes, I do, my dear," said the Bishop unexpectedly. "Warleigh's youngest son mentioned it one day. He told me it was a Dancing Academy."