“Sit on this,” said Scrap, holding it out.  “You’ll be more comfortable.”

Mr. Wilkins leapt to relieve her of it.

“Oh, thanks,” said Mrs. Fisher, interrupted.

It was difficult to get into the swing again.  Mr. Wilkins inserted the cushion solicitously between the slightly raised Mrs. Fisher and the stone of the parapet, and again she had to say “Thanks.”  It was interrupted.  Besides, Lady Caroline said nothing in her defence; she only looked at her, and listened with the face of an attentive angel.

It seemed to Mr. Wilkins that it must be difficult to scold a Dester who looked like that and so exquisitely said nothing.  Mrs. Fisher, he was glad to see, gradually found it difficult herself, for her severity slackened, and she ended by saying lamely, “You ought to have told me you were not doing it.”

“I didn’t know you thought I was,” said the lovely voice.

“I would now like to know,” said Mrs. Fisher, “what you propose to do for the rest of the time here.”

“Nothing,” said Scrap, smiling.

“Nothing?  Do you mean to say—­”

“If I may be allowed, ladies,” interposed Mr. Wilkins in his suavest professional manner, “to make a suggestion”—­they both looked at him, and remembering him as they first saw him felt indulgent—­ “I would advise you not to spoil a delightful holiday with worries over housekeeping.”

“Exactly,” said Mrs. Fisher.  “It is what I intend to avoid.”

“Most sensible,” said Mr. Wilkins.  “Why not, then,” he continued, “allow the cook—­an excellent cook, by the way—­so much a head per diem”—­Mr. Wilkins knew what was necessary in Latin—­“and tell her that for this sum she must cater for you, and not only cater but cater as well as ever?  One could easily reckon it out.  The charges of a moderate hotel, for instance, would do as a basis, halved, or perhaps even quartered.”

“And this week that has just passed?” asked Mrs. Fisher.  “The terrible bills of this first week?  What about them?”

“They shall be my present to San Salvatore,” said Scrap, who didn’t like the idea of Lotty’s nest-egg being reduced so much beyond what she was prepared for.

There was a silence.  The ground was cut from under Mrs. Fisher’s feet.

“Of course if you choose to throw your money about—­” she said at last, disapproving but immensely relieved, while Mr. Wilkins was rapt in the contemplation of the precious qualities of blue blood.  This readiness, for instance, not to trouble about money, this free-handedness—­it was not only what one admired in others, admired in others perhaps more than anything else, but it was extraordinarily useful to the professional classes.  When met with it should be encouraged by warmth of reception.  Mrs. Fisher was not warm.  She accepted—­from which he deduced that with her wealth went closeness—­but she accepted grudgingly.  Presents were presents, and one did not look them in this manner in the mouth, he felt; and if Lady Caroline found her pleasure in presenting his wife and Mrs. Fisher with their entire food for a week, it was their part to accept gracefully.  One should not discourage gifts.