"I don't know anything about corals, Mrs. Vervain," interposed Mr.
Ferris.

"Well, but you ought to see this set for the beauty of the color;
they're really exquisite. I'm sure it will gratify your artistic
taste."

Miss Vervain hesitated with a look of desire to obey, and of doubt
whether to force the pleasure upon Mr. Ferris. "Won't it do another
time, mother?" she asked faintly; "the gondola is waiting for us."

Mrs. Vervain gave a frailish start from the chair, into which she had
sunk, "Oh, do let us be off at once, then," she said; and when they
stood on the landing-stairs of the hotel: "What gloomy things these
gondolas are!" she added, while the gondolier with one foot on the
gunwale of the boat received the ladies' shawls, and then crooked his
arm for them to rest a hand on in stepping aboard; "I wonder they don't
paint them some cheerful color."

"Blue, or pink, Mrs. Vervain?" asked Mr. Ferris. "I knew you were
coming to that question; they all do. But we needn't have the top on at
all, if it depresses your spirits. We shall be just warm enough in the
open sunlight."

"Well, have it off, then. It sends the cold chills over me to look at
it. What _did_ Byron call it?"

"Yes, it's time for. Byron, now. It was very good of you not to mention
him before, Mrs. Vervain. Bat I knew he had to come. He called it a