“People will never see you,” returned the calm voice of Mrs. De Peyster.  “The Plutonia sails at one to-night.  You will go on board with my trunks late this evening, heavily veiled.  Since no one must see you on the way over, you must of course, keep to your cabin.  You must be seasick.”

“But I am never seasick!” cried Olivetta.

“Then you must stay in your berth anyhow and pretend to be.  You are to be too ill to receive any friends who may chance to be on board.  Your stewardess will bring your meals to your stateroom.  When the boat arrives, you must wait till every one else is off, and when you land you must again be heavily veiled and be too sick to speak to any one.  Once you are in Paris—­”

“Yes, there’s the difficulty!”

“Not so great as you think.  I shall give you full directions what to do.  Once you are in Paris, you quietly disappear.  It will become known that Mrs. De Peyster has gone off on a long motor trip through unvisited portions of Europe and will not return for the Newport season.  With Mrs. De Peyster started on this trip, you become yourself, and you see Europe just as you please.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Olivetta, drawing in a deep breath.

“But please, ma’am,” put in Matilda, “why could you not go over yourself and then slip away to some modest resort?”

“So many people know me I should be sure to be seen and recognized.  And then think of the talk!  No, that would never do.  I have considered all possibilities.  My plan is best.”

“Of course, you’re right, ma’am,” agreed Matilda.

“On the way back, Olivetta, you are to preserve the same precautions as on the way over.  And to avoid any possible difficulty in getting into the house, I shall provide you with a key to the house and one to my sitting-room.”

“But you, ma’am,” objected Matilda, “in the mean time you cannot stay cooped up all summer in this room!”

“I do not intend to,” returned Mrs. De Peyster with her consummate calm, which assured her co-conspirators that they could lean untroubled upon her unblundering brain.  “Matilda, will you now please have William come in?”

Matilda, bewildered but obedient, stepped to the door and a moment later followed in the most clean-shaven, the most stiffly perpendicular, the most deferentially dignified, the most irreproachably expressionless of men-servants.  He was the ultimate development of his kind.  It seems almost a sacrilege to add that he was past man’s perfect prime, and to hint that perhaps his scanty, unstreaked hair sought surreptitious rejuvenation in a drug-store bottle.

“William, Matilda will acquaint you with certain alterations in my plans,” began his mistress.  “I desire to add that she will remain in the house alone during my absence; that you are to keep to your quarters in the stable and not enter the house; and that you are to arrange to take, at my expense, all your meals outside.”