“My dear,” said Koenigin, still laughing, though sympathetic, “it strikes me that we began by making rather a demi-god of the man, and are ending by stripping him of even the good qualities which he probably does possess.”

Well! things went on in this exasperating way for a week or so longer.  Of course I washed my hands of the Jook, for I was too much exasperated to be even civil to him.  Kitty was as bright and good-natured as ever, ready to enjoy all the little pleasures that came in her way, though now and then I fancied that I detected a stealthy, wistful look at the Jook’s impassive face.

It was lovely that day, but fearfully hot.  The sun showered down its burning rays upon the white Florida sands, the sky was one arch of cloudless blue, and the water-oaks swung their moss-wreaths languidly over the deserted streets.  We had been dreaming and drowsing away the morning, Koenigin, Kitty and I, in the jelly-fish-like state into which one naturally falls in Florida.

Suddenly Kitty sprang to her feet.  “I can’t stand this any longer,” she said:  “I shall turn into an oyster if I vegetate here.  Please, do you see any shells sprouting on my back yet?”

“What do you want to do?” I asked drowsily.  “You can’t walk in this heat, and if you go on the river the sun will take the skin off your face, and where are you then, Miss Kitty?”

“I can’t help that,” retorted Kitty in a tone of desperation.  “I don’t exactly know where I shall go, but I think in pursuit of some yellow jessamine.”

I sat straight up and gazed at her:  “Are you mad, Kitty?  Has the heat addled your brain already?  You would have to walk at least a mile before you could find any; and what’s the good of it, after all?  It would all be withered before you could get home.”

“Can’t help that,” repeated Kitty:  “I shall have had it, at all events.  Any way, I’m going, and you two can finish your dreams in peace.”

It was useless to argue with Kitty when she was in that mood, so I contented myself with giving her directions for reaching the nearest copse where she would be likely to find the fragrant beauty.

Two hours later Koenigin sat at the window gazing down the long sandy street.  Suddenly her face changed, an expression of interest and surprise came into her dreamy eyes:  she put up her glass, and then broke into a laugh.  “Come and look at this,” she exclaimed; and I came.

What I saw was only Kitty and the Jook, but Kitty and the Jook walking side by side in the most amicable manner—­Kitty sparkling, bewitching, helpless, appealing by turns or altogether as only she could be; the Jook watching her with an expression of amusement and delight on his handsome face.  And both were laden with great wreaths and trails of yellow jessamine, golden chalices of fragrance, drooping sprays of green glistening leaves, until they looked like walking bowers.

“How on earth—­” I exclaimed, and could get no further:  my feelings choked me.