There were four ladies; we shook hands with all of them.  It took us a long time, and I doubt if we got it all in even so, for twice I found myself shaking hands with Simpson.  But these may have been additional ones thrown in.  It was over at last, and we followed the staff indoors.

And then we had another surprise.  It was broken to us by Dahlia, who, at Simpson’s urgent request, took up the position of lady of the house, and forthwith received the flowing confidences of the housekeeper.

“Two of us have to sleep outside,” she said.

“Where?” we all asked blankly.

We went on to the loggia again, and she pointed to a little house almost hidden by olive-trees in a corner of the garden below us.

“Oh, well, that’s all right,” said Archie.  “It’s on the estate.  Thomas, you and Simpson won’t mind that a bit, will you?”

“We can’t turn Samuel out of his own house,” said Myra indignantly.

“We aren’t turning him; he wants to go.  But, of course, if you and your young man would like to live there instead—­”

Myra looked at me eagerly.

“It would be rather fun,” she said.  “We’d have another little honeymoon all to ourselves.”

“It wouldn’t really be a honeymoon,” I objected.  “We should always be knocking up against trippers in the garden, Archies and Samuels and Thomases and what not.  They’d be all over the place.”

Dahlia explained the domestic arrangements.  The honeymooners had their little breakfast in their own little house, and then joined the others for the day at about ten.

“Or eleven,” said Thomas.

“It would be rather lovely,” said Myra thoughtfully.

“Yes,” I agreed; “but have you considered that—­Come over this way a moment, where Thomas and Simpson can’t hear, while I tell you some of the disadvantages.”

I led her into a quiet corner and suggested a few things to her which I hoped would not occur to the other two.

Item:  That if it was raining hard at night, it would be beastly. Item:  That if you suddenly found you’d left your pipe behind, it would be rotten. Item:  That if, as was probable, there wasn’t a proper bathroom in the little house, it would be sickening. Item:  That if she had to walk on muddy paths in her evening shoes, it would be—­

At this point Myra suddenly caught the thread of the argument.  We went back to the others.

“We think,” said Myra, “it would be perfectly heavenly in the little house; but—­” She hesitated.

“But at the same time,” I said, “we think it’s up to Simpson and Thomas to be English gentlemen.  Samuel, it’s your honour.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Come along,” said Thomas to Simpson, “let’s go and look at it.”

* * * * *

After lunch, clean and well-fed and happy, we lay in deck-chairs on the loggia and looked lazily down at the Mediterranean.