"I fancy you're right," assented Jack. "At all events, as you are used to all climates, and as Miss Marchfield comes from Philadelphia"—
"Oh, but I've never been there in summer," Katrine broke in. "And, besides, I've lived in Boston so long that"—
"That you can stand anything?" interrupted Jerry in turn.
"I think I can," laughed Katrine.
Mrs. Fairhew toyed with her coffee-spoon thoughtfully a moment; then she looked up at Jack.
"Where are you bound, Mr. Castleport?" she asked.
"I don't know," Jack answered quite frankly. "I think we shall probably coast along—Monaco, Bordighera, and Mentone, you know; and then go to Genoa. Then perhaps we'll see Elba and Naples and Capri. After that we must start for home. Nothing is settled with us."
"I detest Monaco," Mrs. Fairhew said, with some irrelevance.
"Why?" inquired Jack, with a smile. "Does the gambling offend the Puritan that is in every Bostonian?"
"It certainly does," was the reply, "though my aversion isn't entirely a matter of conscience. I bought it on the spot for a thousand francs."