“Oh, it is beautiful,” said Fräulein.
“Yes, let us bathe,” said the Italian woman.
“We have no bathing suits,” said Gerald.
“Have mine,” said Alexander. “I must go to church and read the lessons. They expect me.”
“Are you a Christian?” asked the Italian Countess, with sudden interest.
“No,” said Alexander. “I’m not. But I believe in keeping up the old institutions.”
“They are so beautiful,” said Fräulein daintily.
“Oh, they are,” cried Miss Bradley.
They all trailed out on to the lawn. It was a sunny, soft morning in early summer, when life ran in the world subtly, like a reminiscence. The church bells were ringing a little way off, not a cloud was in the sky, the swans were like lilies on the water below, the peacocks walked with long, prancing steps across the shadow and into the sunshine of the grass. One wanted to swoon into the by-gone perfection of it all.
“Good-bye,” called Alexander, waving his gloves cheerily, and he disappeared behind the bushes, on his way to church.