Everybody had been silent for some time—­that is, for half a minute, which seems a long time under such circumstances—­when Mrs. Lancaster’s voice broke the stillness.  “Oh for a whiff of mountain-air or a sea-breeze!” she said.  “I came to spend two weeks with you, dear Mrs. Brantley, and I have spent a month—­who ever did leave The Willows when they meant to do so?—­but I really must be thinking of taking flight.  Suppose we get up a party for the White Sulphur?—­it is always so tiresome to go away by one’s self.  Who will join it?  Eleanor, will you?”

“I am not going to the White Sulphur this year,” answered Eleanor Milbourne.

“Not going to the White Sulphur!” repeated Mrs. Lancaster in a tone of surprise.  Then she laughed.  “How stupid I am!” she said.  “Of course I might have known that the temptation to break the pledge of total abstinence from flirtation would be too great in that paradise of flirtation.  Besides, Mr. Brent’s yacht is homeward bound, is it not?”

“I am not aware that there is any connection between Mr. Brent’s yacht and my decision about the White Sulphur,” answered Miss Milbourne haughtily.  Then she turned to the person next her, a recumbent figure lying at full length on the grass.  “I don’t know anything of which one grows so weary as of watering-place life when one has seen much of it,” she said.  “Its pettiness, its routine, its vapidity, its gossip, all oppress one like a hideous nightmare.  I don’t think I shall ever go to a watering-place again.”

“Take care!” said the recumbent.  “Don’t make an abstinence pledge of that kind:  you will only be tempted to break it, for what will you do with yourself in summer?”

“I should like to travel.  I am possessed with an intense desire to see the world and the wonders thereof.”

“With a yacht such a desire would be easily gratified.”

“But I have no yacht,” said she with a sharp chord in her voice.  It was an expressive voice at all times, and doubly expressive in this dim, mysterious starlight.

“Mr. Brent has, however, and I am sure he will be happy to place it at your service.”

“You are very kind to answer for Mr. Brent.”

“I answer for him because I judge him by myself.  If I had a fleet it should be subject to your command.”

“You are very generous,” said she; and now there was a little ripple as of pleasure in her tone.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lancaster was calling over the roll of the company like an orderly sergeant, intent upon beating up recruits for the White Sulphur.  “Major Clare!” she said at last:  “where is Major Clare?” Then, when the gentleman who had just offered Miss Milbourne his airy fleet responded lazily, “Here!” she added, “You will go, will you not?”

“I regret to say that it is impossible,” he answered.  “I have danced my last galop at the White Sulphur.  This time next month I shall probably be en route for Egypt.”