"I never met your friends--Colonel and Mrs. King. We are not military in
Oxford. But they seem--to judge from their letters--to be very nice
people," said the Professor, his tone, quite unconsciously, suggesting
the slightest shade of patronage.

"Oh, they're dears," said the girl warmly. "They were awfully good to
me."

"Cannes was very gay, I suppose?"

"We saw a great many people in the afternoons. The Kings knew everybody.
But I didn't go out in the evenings."

"You weren't strong enough?"

"I was in mourning," said the girl, looking at him with her large and
brilliant eyes.

"Yes, yes, of course!" murmured the Reader, not quite understanding why
he felt himself a trifle snubbed. He asked a few more questions, and his
niece, who seemed to have no shyness, gave a rapid description, as she
sipped her tea, of the villa at Cannes in which she had passed the
winter months, and of the half dozen families, with whom she and her
friends had been mostly thrown. Alice Hooper was secretly thrilled by
some of the names which dropped out casually. She always read the
accounts in the _Queen_, or the _Sketch_, of "smart society" on the
Riviera, and it was plain to her that Constance had been dreadfully "in
it." It would not apparently have been possible to be more "in it." She
was again conscious of a hot envy of her cousin which made her unhappy.
Also Connie's good looks were becoming more evident. She had taken off