"Isn't that shabby?" said Otterburn good-humouredly, turning to Lady Errington. "He's always making fun of my age--as if youth were a crime." "It's a very charming crime at all events," replied Alizon pleasantly; "don't you mind Mr. Gartney, he is a poet, and poets are always praising--and envying--youth." That's true enough, said Eustace with a sigh, "all the poets from Mimnurmus downward have ever lamented the passing of youth. What a pity we can't always remain young." "And why not? I don't count age by years, but by experience," said Lady Errington quietly. "One may be old at twenty and young at fifty." Eustace, knowing what her experience had been, looked curiously at her fair placid face as she said this, and she must have guessed his thoughts, for a flush burned in her cheeks under his searching gaze. "That's what I say," cried Guy, referring to his wife's remark. "If a fellow's got health, wealth and a good temper, the world's a very jolly sort of place." "The best of all possible worlds, according to Voltaire," remarked Eustace, leaning back with a disbelieving smile, "but you've left out one ingredient which some people consider very necessary." "And that is----?" "Love!" "Ab, I've got that," said Guy turning a fond eye on his wife. "Lucky man, other people are not so fortunate." "No," observed Otterburn with a huge sigh, having finished a very decent meal, "it's so difficult to procure the genuine article." "Hark to the cynic of one-and-twenty," cried Gartney. "It's your example, Eustace," observed Guy, producing a cigarette case, "but don't for Heaven's sake start a philosophical discussion on happiness. Why should the children of the king go mourning when the soothing weed is within reach? Have a cigarette, Macjean." "Thank you--if Lady Errington----" "Oh, I do not mind. Guy has habituated me to smoke. Light your cigarettes by all means." Whereupon Otterburn accepted the small roll of paper and tobacco with much satisfaction, and was soon puffing away contentedly, Guy following his example. "These are jolly good cigarettes," he said emphatically. "You can't get decent tobacco in Italy, so I smuggled these past the Customs at Chiasso. I suppose it's no use offering you one, Eustace?" "Not in the least," responded Gartney smiling. "It's a pity to spoil this perfect fragrance with tobacco smoke." "Ah, that's so like you poets--always sacrificing the comforts of life for the sake of its illusions. Well, we won't spoil your esthetic feelings on the subject, Come, Macjean, let us leave these two to continue the conversation, and we'll walk up and down till we finish our smoke." Angus glanced enquiringly at Lady Errington, who smilingly gave the requisite permission, and was soon strolling up and down the terrace with Errington, talking sport, upon which subject both gentlemen were quite in accordance.