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"I have enjoyed that meal in various parts
of the world, but nobody can manage it like she can. She has the true
gift. You will make tea for us in Paradise, dear lady. As to luncheon,
let me tell you in confidence, Mr. Heard, that my friend Keith, whom
you will meet sooner or later, has a most remarkable chef. What that
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.


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