“In the flat-woods.  And, by the way, don’t worry about any snakes.  Virginia said you were anxious.”

“Nonsense,” said his aunt, amused, “Virginia is trying to plague you!  I said nothing about snakes to her.”

“Didn’t you say there were snakes in my district?”

“No.  I did say there were girls in your district, but it didn’t worry me.”

His face was so serious that the smile died out on her own.

“Why, Garret,” she said, “surely you are not offended, are you?”

“Not with you—­Virginia has apparently taken her cue from that unspeakable Mrs. Van Dieman, and is acting like the deuce toward Shiela Cardross.  Couldn’t you find an opportunity to discourage that sort of behaviour?  It’s astonishingly underbred.”

His aunt’s eyelids flickered as she regarded him.

“Come to see me to-night and explain a little more fully what Virginia has done, dear.  Colonel Vetchen is hunting for me and I’m going to let him find me now.  Why don’t you come back with us if you are not looking for anybody in particular.”

“I’m looking for Shiela Cardross,” he said.

“Oh, she’s over there on the terrace holding her fascinating court—­with Louis Malcourt at her heels as usual.”

“I didn’t know that Malcourt was usually at her heels,” he said almost irritably.  It was the second time he had heard that comment, and he found it unaccountably distasteful.

His aunt looked up, smiling.

“Can’t we dine together, Garry?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, dear”—­faintly ironical.  “So now if you’ll go I’ll reveal myself to Gussie Vetchen.  Stand aside, my condescending friend.”

He said, smiling:  “You’re the prettiest revelation here.  I’ll be at the hotel at eight.”

And with that they parted just as the happy little Vetchen, catching sight of them, came bustling up with all the fuss and demonstration of a long-lost terrier.

A few minutes later Hamil found Shiela Cardross surrounded by her inevitable entourage—­a jolly, animated circle hemming her in with Malcourt at her left and Van Tassel Cuyp on her right; and he halted on the circle’s edge to look and listen, glancing askance at Malcourt with a curiosity unaccustomed.

That young man with his well-made graceful figure, his dark hair and vivid tints, had never particularly impressed Hamil.  He had accepted him at his face value, lacking the interest to appraise him; and the acquaintance had always been as casual and agreeable as mutual good-humour permitted.  But now Malcourt, as a type, attracted his attention; and for a moment he contrasted this rather florid example with the specimens of young men around him.  Then he looked at Shiela Cardross.  Her delicately noble head was bent a trifle as she listened with the others to Malcourt’s fluent humour; and it remained so, though at moments she lifted her eyes in that straight, questioning gaze which left the brows level.