If Montgomery Brewster had had any misgivings about his ability to dispose of the balance of his fortune they were dispelled very soon after his party landed in the Riviera.  On the pretext that the yacht required a thorough “house cleaning” Brewster transferred his guests to the hotel of a fascinating village which was near the sea and yet quite out of the world.  The place was nearly empty at the time, and the proprietor wept tears of joy when Monty engaged for his party the entire first floor of the house with balconies overlooking the blue Mediterranean and a separate dining-room and salon.  Extra servants were summoned, and the Brewster livery was soon a familiar sight about the village.  The protests of Peggy and the others were only silenced when Monty threatened to rent a villa and go to housekeeping.

The town quickly took on the appearance of entertaining a royal visitor, and a number of shops were kept open longer than usual in the hope that their owners might catch some of the American’s money.  One morning Philippe, the hotel proprietor, was trying to impress Brewster with a gesticulatory description of the glories of the Bataille de Fleurs.  It seemed quite impossible to express the extent of his regret that the party had not arrived in time to see it.

“This is quite another place at that time,” he said ecstatically.  “C’est magnifique! c’est superbe!  If monsieur had only seen it!”

“Why not have another all to ourselves?” asked Monty.  But the suggestion was not taken seriously.

Nevertheless the young American and his host were in secret session for the rest of the morning, and when the result was announced at luncheon there was general consternation.  It appeared that ten days later occurred the fete day of some minor saint who had not for years been accorded the honor of a celebration.  Monty proposed to revive the custom by arranging a second carnival.

“You might just as well not come to the Riviera at all,” he explained, “if you can’t see a carnival.  It’s a simple matter, really.  I offer one price for the best decorated carriage and another to the handsomest lady.  Then every one puts on a domino and a mask, throws confetti at every one else, and there you are.”

“I suppose you will have the confetti made of thousand franc notes, and offer a house and lot as a prize.”  And Bragdon feared that his sarcasm was almost insulting.

“Really, Monty, the scheme is ridiculous,” said DeMille, “the police won’t allow it.”

“Won’t they though!” said Monty, exultantly.  “The chief happens to be Philippe’s brother-in-law, and we had him on the telephone.  He wouldn’t listen to the scheme until we agreed to make him grand marshal of the parade.  Then he promised the cooperation of the entire force and hoped to interest his colleague, the chief of the fire department.”

“The parade will consist of two gendarmes and the Brewster party in carriages,” laughed Mrs. Dan.  “Do you expect us to go before or after the bakery carts?”