“No, dear Countess, I have never been there, and until lately I have never thought I would care to go.”

“Would you like to go now?”

“Oh!” exclaimed the ancient one, “I would like it of all things!”

“I am thinking of going over next month,” said Margaret, “and of course I would like you to go with me.  Do you mind the sea very much?”

“Oh dear, no!  I used to sail a great deal when I was a girl, and the Atlantic cannot be worse than our coast.”

Miss Skeat’s assent was a matter of real importance to Margaret, for the old gentlewoman was sincerely attached to her, and Margaret would have been very unwilling to turn her faithful companion adrift, even for a time, besides the minor consideration that without a companion she would not go at all.  The end of it was that by dinner-time she had made up her mind to write excuses to all the people who expected her, and to accept the Duke’s invitation.  After all, it was not until next month, and she could finish the book she was reading with Claudius before that.  She postponed writing to the Duke until the following day, in order to make a show of having considered the matter somewhat longer.  But her resolution did not change, and in the morning she despatched a friendly little note to the effect that she found her engagements would permit her, etc. etc.

When Margaret told Miss Skeat that they were going in one of the finest yachts afloat, with the Duke and his sister, her companion fairly crackled with joy.

CHAPTER VI.

The Duke was away during the day, and did not receive the Countess’s note until late in the evening.  To tell the truth, he was very glad to find that she was going; but he felt there might be difficulties in the way; for, of course, he was bound to let her know the names of his remaining guests.  She might hesitate when she heard that Claudius and Barker were to be of the party.  After all, Barker was the companion whom the Duke wanted.  He knew nothing about Claudius, but he had met enough men of all types of eccentricity not to be much surprised at him, and as the Doctor was evidently a gentleman, there was no objection.  Therefore, as soon as the Duke knew of Margaret’s determination, he sallied forth, armed with her note, to find Mr. Barker.  It was late, but the American was nocturnal in his habits, and was discovered by his friend in a huge cloud of tobacco smoke, examining his nails with that deep interest which in some persons betokens thought.

“It’s all right,” said the Duke; “she will go.”

“You don’t mean it?” said Barker, taking his legs off the sofa and wrinkling his face.

“There you are.  Note.  Formal acceptance, and all the rest of it.”  And he handed Margaret’s letter to Barker.

“Well, that is pretty smart practice,” remarked the latter; “I expected you would have difficulties.”