“Ai raggi della luna
     Vien meco a navigar!”

Where were they?  Surely they have passed out from the darkness of the narrow canal, and are away on the broad bosom of the lagoon.  The Place of St. Mark is all aglow with its golden points of fire; the yellow radiance spreads out into the night.  And that other wandering mass of gold—­the gondola hung round with lamps, and followed by a dark procession through the silence of the waters—­does not the music come from thence?  Listen, now: 

    “Sul l’onde addormentate
     Vien meco a navigar!”

Can they hear the distant chorus, in there at the shore where the people are walking about in the golden glare of the lamps?

    “Vien meco a navigar! 
     Vien meco a navigar!”

Or can some faint echo be carried away out to yonder island, where the pale blue-white radiance of the moonlight is beginning to touch the tall dome of San Giorgio?

    “—­a navigar!
     —­a navigar!”

“It seems to me,” said Lord Evelyn, when the girl rose, with a smile on her face, “that you do not need to go into Regent Street when you want to imagine yourself abroad.”

Natalie looked at her watch.

“If you will excuse me, I will go and get ready now.”

Well, they went to the big foreign restaurant; and had a small table all to themselves, in the midst of the glare, and the heat, and the indiscriminate Babel of tongues.  And, under the guidance of Mr. Brand, they adventured upon numerous articles of food which were more varied in there names than in their flavor; and they tasted some of the compounds, reeking of iris-root, that the Neapolitans call wine, until they fell back on a flask of Chianti, and were content; and they regarded their neighbors, and were regarded in turn.  In the midst of it all, Mr. Lind, who had been somewhat preoccupied, said suddenly.

“Natalie, can you start with me for Leipsic to-morrow afternoon?”

She was as prompt as a soldier.

“Yes, papa.  Shall I take Anneli or not?”

“You may if you like.”

After that George Brand seemed to take very little interest in this heterogeneous banquet:  he stared absently at the foreign-looking people, at the hurrying waiters, at the stout lady behind the bar.  Even when Mr. Lind told his daughter that her black satin mob-cap, with its wonderful intertwistings of Venetian chain, looked very striking in a mirror opposite, and when Lord Evelyn eagerly gave his friend the credit of having selected that birthday gift, he did not seem to pay much heed.  When, after all was over, and he had wished Natalie “Bon voyage” at the door of the brougham, Lord Evelyn said to him,

“Come along to Clarges Street now and smoke a cigar.”

“No, thanks!” he said.  “I think I will stroll down to my rooms now.”

“What is the matter with you, Brand?  You have been looking very glum.”