"Perhaps I am detaining you?" said the cardinal.

"By no means," replied the earl. "I don't dare to go back just yet. I
met her first at home, last season. I've followed her about like a
spaniel ever since. I started in for a lark, and now I'm in for keeps.
She has a peculiar way with her," continued the earl, smoothing his hat;
"one minute you think you are great chums and, the next, you wonder if
you have ever been presented."

"I recognize the Irish variety," said the cardinal.

"She is here with her yacht," continued the earl. "Her aunt is with her.
The aunt is a good sort. I am sure you would like her."

"Doubtless," said the cardinal, with a shrug; "but have you nothing more
to say about the niece?"

"I followed her here," continued the earl, his hands still busy with his
hat, "and I've done my best. Just now, in the Piazza, I asked her to
marry me, and she laughed. We went into St. Mark's, and the lights and
the music and the pictures and the perfume seemed to soften her. 'Did
you mean it?' she said to me. I told her I did. 'Don't speak to me for a
little while,' she said, 'I want to think.' That was strange, wasn't
it?"

"No," said the cardinal, "I don't think that was strange. I think it was
merely feminine."

"We came out of the church," continued the earl, "and I felt sure of
her; but when we came into the Piazza and she saw the life of the place,