“The Americans always travel like lords,” she concluded, forgetting that she served a lord, and not in the least intending to be ironical.

“That will do, Bromley,” said her mistress sharply.  “If they’re like most Americans I’ve seen they’ll have nothing but wet nurses and chauffeurs.  I can’t eat this vile stuff.”  She had already burned her fingers and dropped a slice of beechnut bacon on her sweet little morning gown.  “Come on, Deppy; let’s go up and watch the approach of the enemy.”

Dolefully they passed out of the culinary realm; it is of record that they never looked into it from that hour forth.  On the broad, vine-covered gallery they sat in dour silence and in silence took turns with Deppy’s binoculars in the trying effort to make out what was going on in the offing.  The company’s tug seemed unusually active.  It bustled about the big steamer with an industriousness that seemed almost frantic.  The laziness that had marked its efforts of the day before was amazingly absent.  At last they saw it turn for the shore, racing inward with a great churning of waves and a vast ado in its smokestack.

From their elevated position, the occupants of the gallery could see the distant pier.  When the tug drew up to its moorings, the same motionless horde of white-robed natives lined up along the dock building.  Trunks, boxes and huge crated objects were hustled off the boat with astonishing rapidity.  Deppingham stared hard and unbelieving at this evidence of haste.

Five or six strangers stood upon the pier, very much as their party had stood the day before.  There were four women and—­yes, two men.  The men seemed to be haranguing the natives, although no gesticulations were visible.  Suddenly there was a rush for the trunks and boxes and crates, and, almost before the Lady Agnes could catch the breath she had lost, the whole troupe was hurrying up the narrow street, luggage and all.  The once-sullen natives seemed to be fighting for the privilege of carrying something.  A half dozen of them dashed hither and thither and returned with great umbrellas, which they hoisted above the heads of the newcomers.  Lady Agnes sank back, faint with wonder, as the concourse lost itself among the houses of the agitated town.

Scarcely half an hour passed before the advance guard of the Browne company came into view at the park gates below.  Deppingham recalled the fact that an hour and a half had been consumed in the accomplishment yesterday.  He was keeping a sharp lookout for the magic red jacket and the Tommy Atkins lid.  Quite secure from observation, he and his wife watched the forerunners with the hand bags; then came the sweating trunk bearers and then the crated objects in—­what?  Yes, by the Lord Harry, in the very carts that had been their private chariots the day before!