“Fiddlesticks! They are paid by the pleasure of our society. You don't seem to realize that we are unusually interesting and attractive people,” laughed he with a flourish. “Vain boy!” “So I am, and vain of being vain. I believe in being as conceited as possible, conceited enough to make one's conceit good.” She smiled indulgently, knowing that, as he was talking nonsense, he felt happy. Farraday appeared in a few minutes, and they settled in a group round the fire with coffee and cigarettes. Stefan offered Mary one. She shook her head. “I'm not smoking now, you know.” “Did Dr. Hillyard say so?” he asked quickly. “No, but--” “Then don't be poky, dearest.” He lit the cigarette and held it out to her, but she waved it back. “Don't tease, dear,” she murmured, noticing that Farraday was watching them. Stefan with a shrug retained the cigarette in his left hand, and smoked it ostentatiously for some minutes, alternately with his own. Mary, hoping he was not going to be naughty, embarked on the Long Island topic. “We want to be within an hour of the city,” she explained, “but in pretty country. We want to keep house, but not to pay too much. We should like to be near the sea. Does that sound wildly impossible?” Farraday fingered his cigarette reflectively. “I rather think,” he said at last, “that my neighborhood most nearly meets the requirements. I have several hundred acres at Crab's Bay, which belonged to my father, running from the shore halfway to the railroad station. The village itself is growing suburban, but the properties beyond mine are all large, and keep the country open. We are only an hour from the city--hardly more, by automobile.” “Are there many tin cans?” enquired Stefan, flippantly. “In Michigan I remember them as the chief suburban decoration.” “Yes?” said Farraday, in his invariably courteous tone, “I've never been there. It is a long way from New York.” “Touché,” cried Stefan, grinning. “But you would think pessimism justified if you'd ever had my experience of rural life.” “Was your father really American?” enquired his guest with apparent irrelevance. “Yes, and a minister.” “Oh, a minister. I see,” the other replied, quietly. “Explains it, does it?” beamed Stefan, who was nothing if not quick. They all laughed, and the little duel was ended. Mary took up the broken discussion. “Is there the slightest chance of our finding anything reasonably cheap in such a neighborhood?” she asked.