On board the yacht in the harbor preparations were being made to land a small party that contemplated a motor trip up the Nuuanu Valley when a small boat drew alongside, and a messenger from the hotel handed a sealed note to one of the sailors.

From the deck of the Halfmoon Skipper Simms witnessed the transaction, smiling inwardly.  Billy Byrne also saw it, but it meant nothing to him.  He had been lolling upon the deck of the brigantine glaring at the yacht Lotus, hating her and the gay, well-dressed men and women he could see laughing and chatting upon her deck.  They represented to him the concentrated essence of all that was pusillanimous, disgusting, loathsome in that other world that was as far separated from him as though he had been a grubworm in the manure pile back of Brady’s livery stable.

He saw the note handed by the sailor to a gray-haired, smooth-faced man—­a large, sleek, well-groomed man.  Billy could imagine the white hands and polished nails of him.  The thought was nauseating.

The man who took and opened the note was Anthony Harding, Esq.  He read it, and then passed it to a young woman who stood near-by talking with other young people.

“Here, Barbara,” he said, “is something of more interest to you than to me.  If you wish I’ll call upon him and invite him to dinner tonight.”

The girl was reading the note.

Anthony Harding, Esq. 
  On Board Yacht Lotus,
    Honolulu
My dear Mr. Harding: 

This will introduce a very dear friend of mine, Count de Cadenet, who expects to be in Honolulu about the time that you are there.  The count is traveling for pleasure, and as he is entirely unacquainted upon the islands any courtesies which you may show him will he greatly appreciated.

Cordially,

L. Cortwrite divine.

The girl smiled as she finished perusing the note.

“Larry is always picking up titles and making dear friends of them,” she laughed.  “I wonder where he found this one.”

“Or where this one found him,” suggested Mr. Harding.  “Well, I suppose that the least we can do is to have him aboard for dinner.  We’ll be leaving tomorrow, so there won’t be much entertaining we can do.”

“Let’s pick him up on our way through town now,” suggested Barbara Harding, “and take him with us for the day.  That will be settling our debt to friendship, and dinner tonight can depend upon what sort of person we find the count to be.”

“As you will,” replied her father, and so it came about that two big touring cars drew up before the Count de Cadenet’s hotel half an hour later, and Anthony Harding, Esq., entered and sent up his card.

The “count” came down in person to greet his caller.  Harding saw at a glance that the man was a gentleman, and when he had introduced him to the other members of the party it was evident that they appraised him quite as had their host.  Barbara Harding seemed particularly taken with the Count de Cadenet, insisting that he join those who occupied her car, and so it was that the second officer of the Halfmoon rode out of Honolulu in pleasant conversation with the object of his visit to the island.