"That's just it," she answered. "I haven't been. But I'm resolved to turn over a new leaf. I've sent so many to the devil that my heart is set on sending you to—to Heaven instead."
He opened his arms, hungrily and invitingly, and said:
"I promise. I'll take you on your own terms, since that is the only way."
"As a gentleman you can't break your word, you know," she reminded him. "Hadn't you better wait until after luncheon to think it over?"
"But luncheon won't be served for—"
"Oh, yes, it will," she interrupted. "It's served now. We mustn't set every one talking and gossiping by being late and coming in together." She was already on her feet, and his arms dropped disconsolately. "I'll go at once, and you can think a while and then follow."
"Just one kiss first," he implored.
"Not until you have thought it over. It wouldn't be fair to any one of us three." And she disappeared through the maze of orange trees.
When Carleigh reached the luncheon table it was to find Nina in animated conversation with a tall, bald, red-mustached man who sat on her left. Carleigh found his place opposite, but she barely noticed him, so thoroughly did she appear interested.
Her companion, who proved to be Sir Guy Waldron, the archæologist, just back from an excavating expedition to Sardis, in Asia Minor, was telling her about the buried riches of Cr[oe]sus, and his hope of digging them up.