“Why not try a change?” I suggested. “You have the Vispera lying at Villefranche. Why not take a trip in her up the Mediterranean?” “Would you like to go on a cruise in her?” he asked suddenly. “If you would, I should be very pleased to take you. I might invite a party for a run say to Naples and back.” “I should, of course, be delighted,” I answered enthusiastically, for yachting was one of my favorite pastimes, and on board such a magnificent craft, one of the finest private vessels afloat, life would be most enjoyable. “Very well, I’ll see what I can arrange,” he answered, and then we fell to discussing other things. He smoked thoughtfully as he strolled beside me, his mind evidently much preoccupied. The stars were bright overhead, the night balmy and still, and the air was heavy with the scent of flowers. It was hard to believe that it was actually midwinter. “I fear,” he said at last,--“I fear, Miss Rosselli, that you find me a rather lonely man, don’t you?” “You have no reason to be lonely,” I responded. “Surrounded by all these friends, your life might surely be very gay if you wished.” “Friends? Bah!” he cried in a tone of ridicule. “There’s an attraction in money that is irresistible. These people here, all of them, bow down before the golden calf. Sometimes, Miss Rosselli, I have thought that there’s no real honesty of purpose in the world.” “I’m afraid you are a bit of a cynic,” I laughed. “And if I am, may I not be forgiven?” he urged. “I can assure you I find life very dull indeed.” It was a strange confession, coming from the lips of such a man. If only I had a sixteenth part of his wealth I should, I reflected, be a very happy woman--unless the common saying were actually true, that great wealth only created unbearable burdens. “You are not the only one who finds life wearisome,” I observed frankly. “I also plead guilty to the indictment on frequent occasions.” “You!” he cried, halting and regarding me in surprise. “You--young, pretty, vivacious, with ever so many men in love with you? And you are tired of it all, tired of it while still in your twenties--impossible!” CHAPTER VII MAINLY CONCERNS THE OWL Ulrica was that night wildly hilarious at my expense. She had noticed me walking tête-à-tête with old Mr. Keppel, and accused me of flirting with him.