“Dear me, how very sad!” and Diana concealed a slight yawn behind her fan. “Poor girl!” “Oh, she wasn’t a girl!” sniggered her informant. “She was quite an old maid--over forty by a good way. But it was rather an unfortunate affair.” “Why?” asked Diana. “I don’t see it at all! Women over forty who have failed to get married shouldn’t live! Don’t you agree?” He sniggered again. “Well,--perhaps I do!--perhaps I do! But we mustn’t be severe--we mustn’t be severe! We shall get old ourselves some day!” “We shall indeed!” Diana responded, ironically. “Even _you_ must have passed your twentieth birthday!” He got up a spasmodic laugh at this, but looked very foolish all the same. “Did you--in these psychic days--think I might be the drowned old maid reincarnated?” she continued, lazily, still playing with her fan. This time his laugh was unforced and genuine. “_You!_ My dear young lady! The Miss May I knew might be your mother! No,--it was only the curious coincidence of names that made me wonder if you were any relative.” “There are many people in the world of the same name,” remarked Diana. “Quite so! You will excuse me, I’m sure, and accept my apologies!” She bent her head carelessly and he moved away. A few minutes later Dimitrius approached her. “Come out on the terrace,” he said. “It’s quite warm and there’s a fine moon. Come and tell me all about it!” She looked at him in surprise. “All about it? What do you mean?” “All about the little podgy man who was talking to you! You’ve met him before, haven’t you? Yes? Come along!--let’s hear the little tale of woe!” His manner was so gentle and playful that she hardly understood it--it was something quite new. She obeyed his smiling gesture and throwing a light scarf about her shoulders went out with him on the terrace which dominated the smooth sloping lawn in front of the hotel, where palms lifted their fringed heads to the almost violet sky and the scent of mimosa filled every channel of the moonlit air. “I heard all he said to you,” went on Dimitrius. “I was sitting behind you, hidden by a big orange tree in a tub,--not purposely hidden, I assure you! And so you are drowned!” He laughed,--then, as he saw she was about to speak, held up his hand. “Hush! I can guess it all! Not wanted at home, except as a household drudge--unloved and alone in the world, you made an exit--not a _real_ exit--just a stage one!--and came to me! Excellently managed!--for now, being drowned and dead, as the _old_ Diana, you can live in your own way as the _young_ one! And you are quite safe! Your own father wouldn’t know you!” She was silent, looking gravely out to sea and the scarcely visible line of the Esterel Mountains. “You mustn’t resent my quickness in guessing!” he continued. “I can always put two and two together and make four! Our podgy friend has been unconsciously a very good test of the change in you.” She turned her head and looked fixedly at him.