"But, my dear Dicky," his sister protested, "I don't want to sit upon the Terrace. I am going to my dressmaker's across the way there, and afterwards to Lucie's to try on some hats. Then I am going back to the hotel for an hour's rest and to prink, and afterwards into the Sporting Club at four o'clock. That's my programme. I shall be doing what I can the whole of the time. I shall make discreet enquiries of my dressmaker, who knows everybody, and I sha'n't let a single acquaintance go by. You will have to amuse yourself till four o'clock, at any rate. There's Sir Henry Hunterleys over there, having coffee. Go and talk to him. He may put you out of your misery. Thanks ever so much for my luncheon, and au revoir!"
She turned away with a little nod. Her brother, after a moment's hesitation, approached the table where Hunterleys was sitting alone.
"How do you do, Sir Henry?"
Hunterleys returned his greeting, a little blankly at first. Then he remembered the young man and held out his hand.
"Of course! You are Richard Lane, aren't you? Sit down and have some coffee. What are you doing here?"
"I've got a little boat in the harbour," Richard replied, as he drew up a chair. "I've been at Algiers for a time with some friends, and I've brought them on here. Just been lunching with my sister. Are you alone?"
Hunterleys hesitated.
"Yes, I am alone."
"Wonderful place," the young man went on. "Wonderful crowd of people here, too. I suppose you know everybody?" he added, warming up as he approached his subject.
"On the contrary," Hunterleys answered, "I am almost a stranger here. I have been staying further down the coast."