"Do you think so?" observed Gartney serenely; "it strikes me that your 'seeing a lot' has been principally confined to pottering about this place in company with Miss Sheldon." Otterburn looked a trifle sheepish at this very pointed remark, and resumed his cigarette with a nervous laugh. They were seated under a mulberry tree, looking at the lake flashing in the brilliant sunshine, listening to a noisy cicada that was singing to itself in an adjacent flower-bed, and watching the brown lizards chasing one another over the hot stones of the parapet. "Where do you want to go to?" asked the Master, after a pause. "I was thinking of driving to Cantari. It's a queer old village, dating from the time of Il Medeghino." "Who the deuce was he?" "A pirate of this ilk, who used to sweep the lake with a fleet of ships." "It wouldn't take a very big fleet to do that," said Otterburn, staring at the narrow limits of the lake. "I daresay one of our ironclads could have knocked the whole show to kingdom-come in no time." "Very probably," replied Eustace dryly, "but luckily for Il Medeghino there were no ironclads in those days, and a good thing too. Torpedoes, Gatling guns, and dynamite have taken all the romance out of war. But this is not the question. What about Cantari. Will you come?" "Well, I hardly know--I--do you think Miss Sheldon would care to come?" "She might, only I'm not going to ask her. There's not much amusement in watching her flirting with you in some old church. Besides she'd admire the altar-cloth because it would make such a lovely dress, and the jewels of the shrine because they would look so charming on her own neck. No. I am not going to have my enjoyment spoilt by the everlasting chatter of a woman's tongue." "You're horribly severe," said Angus wincing. "You don't like Miss Sheldon." "As a pretty woman, yes. As a companion, no. She's a coquette.' "Oh, I don't think so." "Don't you? Well, wait a week. Your disenchantment will soon commence." "She's a true woman," declared Macjean hotly. "And therefore capricious. My dear lad, the two things are inseparable. But once more--for the third time. What about Cantari?" The young man looked at the blue sky above, the blue lake below, the brilliantly-coloured flowers, and ultimately brought his eyes back to Eustace. "I'll come if you like," he said awkwardly. "Oh, don't trouble," replied Eustace curtly, springing to his feet, "I'll go alone," and he walked off in a huff, Otterburn making no attempt to stop him. "What a cross chap he is," muttered the Master to himself, "he always wants a fellow to be dodging about those old ruins. It isn't good enough when there's a pretty girl about--not much. Life's too short to waste one's chances." After which slightly egotistical soliloquy, Otterburn pitched his cigarette into a flower-bed and strolled off to the music-room, where he found Miss Sheldon strumming waltzes on a fearfully bad piano.