"No—not even a copy. What was the subject? Horrid of me to ask; but, you see, it's July now, and one forgets."
"One does," he admitted, as if he were pleased. "Oh, it was only a portrait of my aunt."
"Your Scotch aunt?"
"Yes. But if you'd seen it, and then should see her, you mightn't even recognize her. I—er—didn't try to make a striking likeness."
"I wish I'd seen the picture," said I. And I thought Mr. Starr must be very modest, for his expression suggested that he didn't echo my wish.
"Do you think you could let my aunt and me join you?" he asked. "I don't mean to crowd up your boat; that would never do, for you might want to sleep on it sometimes. But I might get a barge, and you could tow it. I'd thought of that very thing; indeed, I've practically engaged a barge. My friend and I, who were to have chummed together, if he hadn't been called away—oh, you know, that was a plan before my aunt promised to come, quite another idea. But what I mean to say is, I got an idea for hiring a barge, and having it towed by the motor-boat. I could have had a studio in that way, for I wanted to do some painting. I'd just come back from seeing rather a jolly barge that's to let, when I—er—stumbled on you."
"Had you engaged any one to work 'Lorelei'?"
"A chauffeur," said Mr. Ronald; "but no skipper for certain yet. I've been negotiating."
"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "Must we have a chauffeur and a skipper too?"
"I'm afraid we must; a man who understands the waterways of Holland. A chauffeur understands only the motor, and lucky if he does that."