"But would it not be different if we all went together? Do you not think
it would be much nicer?"

"Did you say your sister was going?"

"Oh yes, she will certainly go."

"Well," said the Countess after a moment's thought, "I will not say just
yet. I need not make up my mind yet; need I? Then I will take a few days
to think of it."

"I am sure you will decide to join us," said the Duke pressingly.

"Perhaps I ought to go, and it is so kind of you, really, to give me
such a delightful chance." She had a presentiment that before long she
would he on her way to join the yacht, though at first sight it seemed
rather improbable, for, as Claudius had guessed, she had a great many
engagements for visits. If any one had suggested to her that morning
that she might make a trip to America, she would have said it was quite
impossible. The idea of the disagreeable journey, the horror of being
cast among an immense crowd of unknown travellers; or, still worse, of
being thrown into the society of some chance acquaintance who would make
the most of knowing her--it was all sufficient, even in the absence of
other reasons, to deter her from undertaking the journey. But in the
party proposed by the Duke it was all very different. He was a
gentleman, besides being a peer, and he was an old friend. His sister
was a kind-hearted gentlewoman of narrow views but broad humanity; and
not least, the yacht was sure to be perfection, and she would be the
honoured guest. She would be sorry to leave Baden for some reasons; she