The girl added:  “One does not absolutely disregard the displeasure of such people.”

“They didn’t some years ago when there were no shops on Fifth Avenue and gentlemen wore side-whiskers,” said Hamil, smiling.

Shiela Cardross shrugged.  “I’m sorry; I was inclined to like her.  She misses more than I do because we are a jolly and amusing family.  It’s curious how much energy is wasted disliking people.  Who is Miss Suydam?”

“She’s a sort of a relative.  I have always known her.  I’m sorry she was rude.  She is sometimes.”

They said no more about her or about his aunt; and presently they moved on again, luncheon being imminent.

“You will like my sister, Mrs. Carrick,” said Shiela tranquilly.  “You know her husband, Acton, don’t you?  He’s at Miami fishing.”

“Oh, yes; I’ve met him at the club.  He’s very agreeable.”

“He is jolly.  And Jessie—­Mrs. Carrick—­is the best fun in the world.  And you are sure to like my little sister Cecile; every man adores her, and you’ll do it, too—­yes, I mean sentimentally—­until she laughs you out of it.”

“Like yourself, Calypso, I’m not inclined to sentiment,” he said.

“You can’t help it with Cecile.  Wait!  Then there are others to lunch with us—­Marjorie Staines—­very popular with men, and Stephanie Anan—­you studied with her uncle, Winslow Anan, didn’t you?”

“Yes, indeed!” he exclaimed warmly, “but how did you—­”

“Oh, I knew it; I know lots about you, you see....  Then there is Phil Gatewood—­a perfectly splendid fellow, and Alex Anan—­a dear boy, ready to adore any girl who looks sideways at him....  I don’t remember who else is to lunch with us, except my brother Gray.  Look, Mr. Hamil!  They’ve actually sat down to luncheon without waiting for us!  What horrid incivility!  Could your watch have been wrong?—­or have we been too deeply absorbed?”

“I can speak for one of us,” he said, as they came out upon the lawn in full view of the table which was spread under the most beautiful live-oaks he had ever seen.

* * * * *

Everybody was very friendly.  Gray Cardross, a nice-looking boy who wore spectacles, collected butterflies, and did not look like a “speed-mad cub,” took Hamil to the house, whither Shiela had already retired for an ante-prandial toilet; but there is no dust in that part of the world, and his preparations were quickly made.

“Awfully glad you came,” repeated young Cardross with all the excessive cordiality of the young and unspoiled.  “Father has been checking off the days on the calendar since your letter saying you were coming by way of Nassau.  The Governor is dying to begin operations on that jungle yonder.  When we camp I’m going—­and probably Shiela is—­she began clamoring to go two weeks ago.  We all had an idea that you were a rather feeble old gentleman—­like Mr. Anan—­until Shiela brought us the picture they published of you in the paper two weeks ago; and she said immediately that if you were young enough to camp she was old enough to go too.  She’s a good shot, Mr. Hamil, and she won’t interfere with your professional duties—­”