"My dear, you've been dancing attendance on a fidgety old cripple long
enough. Go along with Tony and squander your francs at boule, and drink
_cafe melange_ or ice-cream soda, or whatever indigestible drinks the
Kursaal management provides, and listen to this 'perfectly ripping
programme.'" She shot a quizzical glance at Tony. "And you can tell that
crabbed old uncle of yours to come to the villa and keep me amused in the
meantime."

And, since there was never any combating Lady Susan's decisions, matters
were arranged accordingly.

* * * * *

It was unusually gay at the Kursaal that evening. The announcement of a
special programme had drawn a large audience, and the terrace was crowded
with people sitting at small, painted iron tables and partaking of various
kinds of refreshment while they listened to the orchestra. Festoons of
coloured lights sparkled like jewels in the dusk, and from the twilit
shadows of the gardens below came answering gleams of red and orange, where
Chinese lanterns spangled the foliage of the trees. Beyond the gardens lay
the sleeping lake, and faint little airs wafted coolly upward from its
surface, tempering the heat of the evening.

Ann looked round her with interested eyes while Tony gave his order to
a waitress. She thoroughly enjoyed an evening at the Kursaal. Until
she had joined Lady Susan at Villa Mon Reve, she had never been out of
England--for, though Archibald Lovell had been fond of wandering on the
Continent himself, no suggestion had ever emanated from him that his
daughter might like to wander with him--and the essentially un-English