“Baedeker?” whispered Deppingham, passing his hand over his brow in bewilderment.  His wife was looking serenely in the opposite direction.

The pert girl in the pink waist opened a small portfolio while the others gathered around her.  She read therefrom.  The lawyer, when she had concluded, drew a compass from his pocket, and, walking over to the stone balustrade, set it down for observation.  Then he pointed vaguely into what proved to be the southwest.

“We must tell Lady Deppingham not to take the rooms at this end,” was the next thing that the listeners heard from Mrs. Browne’s lips.  Her ladyship turned upon her husband with a triumphant sniff and a knowing smile.

“What did I tell you?” she whispered.  “I knew they’d want the best of everything.  Isn’t it lucky I pounced upon those rooms?  They shan’t turn us out.  You won’t let ’em, will you, Deppy?”

“The impudence of ’em!” was all that Deppy could sputter.

At that moment, the American party caught sight of the pair in the corner.  For a brief space of time the two parties stared at each other, very much as the hunter and the hunted look when they come face to face without previous warning.  Then a friendly, half-abashed smile lighted Browne’s face.  He came toward the Deppinghams, his straw hat in his hand.  His lordship retained his seat and met the smile with a cold stare of superiority.

“I beg your pardon,” said Browne.  “This is Lord Deppingham?”

“Ya-as,” drawled Deppy, with a look which was meant to convey the impression that he did not know who the deuce he was addressing.

“Permit me to introduce myself.  I am Robert Browne.”

“Oh,” said Deppy, as if that did not convey anything to him.  Then as an afterthought:  “Glad to know you, I’m sure.”  Still he did not rise, nor did he extend his hand.  For a moment young Browne waited, a dull red growing in his temples.

“Don’t you intend to present me to Lady Deppingham?” he demanded bluntly, without taking his eyes from Deppy’s face.

“Oh—­er—­is that necess—­”

“Lady Deppingham,” interrupted Browne, turning abruptly from the man in the chair and addressing the lady in azure blue who sat on the balustrade, “I am Robert Browne, the man you are expected to marry.  Please don’t be alarmed.  You won’t have to marry me.  Our grandfathers did not observe much ceremony in mating us, so I don’t see why we should stand upon it in trying to convince them of their error.  We are here for the same purpose, I suspect.  We can’t be married to each other.  That’s out of the question.  But we can live together as if we—­”

“Good Lord!” roared Deppy, coming to his feet in a towering rage.  Browne smiled apologetically and lifted his hand.

“—­as if we were serving out the prescribed period of courtship set down in the will.  Believe me, I am very happily married, as I hope you are.  The courtship, you will perceive, is neither here nor there.  Please bear with me, Lord Deppingham.  It’s the silly will that brings us together, not an affinity.  Our every issue is identical, Lady Deppingham.  Doesn’t it strike you that we will be very foolish if we stand alone and against each other?”