man of Keith's cannot cook is not worth eating."

"How delightful!" replied the bishop, slightly embarrassed. "And
where," he added, laughing--"where does one dine?"

"I don not dine. Madame Steynlin used to give nice evening parties," he
continued reflectively, and with a shad of sadness in his voice.
"Excellent little dinners! But she is so taken up with Russians just
now; they quite monopolise her house. Down there; do you see, Mr.
Heard? That white villa by the sea, at the end of the promontory? She
is so romantic. That is why she bought a house which nobody else would
have bought at any price. That little place, all by itself--it
fascinated her. Bitterly she regrets her choice. She has discovered the
drawbacks of a promontory. My dear Duchess, never live on a promontory!
It has fearful inconveniences; you are overlooked by everybody. All the
islands know what you do, and who visits you, and when, and why. . . .
Yes, I remember those dinners with regret. Nowadays I must content
myself with a miserable supper at home. The doctor has forbidden
dinners. He says I am getting too fat."

Denis remarked:

"Your fat is your fortune, Don Francesco."

"My fortune, then, is a heavy load to bear. Mr. Keith tells me I have
seven double chins, three behind and four in front. He says he has
counted them carefully. He declares that an eighth is in course of
formation. It is too much for a person of my austere temperament."

"You need never believe a word Keith says," said the Duchess. "He