"Ah, but you don't know all. A young man is going with them, a strange American young man, whom they never saw till yesterday."
"By Jove! In what capacity—as chauffeur?"
"Not at all. As a sort of paying guest, so far as I can understand the arrangement."
"It sounds rather an odd one."
"I should say so; but I mustn't make you think it's worse than it is. There was a misunderstanding about the boat. The American thought he'd hired it from the caretaker, and they were sorry for his disappointment. He has an aunt, a Scotswoman of title, who is to be of the party."
"That makes all the difference, doesn't it?—not the title, but the aunt."
"It makes a difference, certainly; but the man may be an adventurer. He's an artist, it appears, named Starr——"
"What, the Starr whose Salon picture made so much talk in Paris this spring?"
"Yes; but being a good artist doesn't constitute him a good man. He might make love to the girls."
"Beast! So he might, aunt or no aunt. She'll probably aid and abet him. I don't know that I blame you for objecting to such an adventure for your cousin."