came into view.

Claire began an introduction, but Mrs. Richards cut in with her odd,
challenging way.

"Oh, _I_ know Mr. Stillman! But I guess he's forgotten _me_. It's been
some years, of course. At Mr. Faville's--your _wife's_ father's house."

Stillman paled for the briefest of moments, but he recovered himself
cleverly. "Mrs. Richards--of course! How do you do? It _has_ been some
years."

"I'm going to Mr. Flint's--at Yolanda," said Claire, "to take some
dictation. He's been ill, you know."

"Ill? No, I hadn't heard it. Nothing serious, I hope."

"Not serious enough to keep Mrs. Flint at home, anyway," volunteered
Mrs. Richards, in her characteristically disagreeable way.

"Mrs. Richards saw Mrs. Flint and the children coming off the boat...."

"As I got on," interrupted the lady again.

"Oh, indeed, is that so?" Claire fancied that Stillman's tone held
something more than polite acceptance of what he had just heard. "I can
take you ladies to Yolanda if you'd like a spin in the open better than
a stuffy ride in the train."

"Thank you," Mrs. Richards returned, "but I get off at Sausalito. I've