"Just what I think. Well, you'll come to Algiers and hear how the new opera's getting on?"
He glanced at her determined eyes.
"Yes, I'll come. But it must be only for ten days. I've got such a lot of work on hand!"
"Perhaps I'll ask Ferdinand to come, too. Or—"
Suddenly Mrs. Shiffney leaned forward. Her face had become eager, almost excited.
"Shall I ask Henriette and Jacques to come with us? They don't go to New York this year."
Max Elliot seemed to hesitate. He was an enthusiast, and apt to be carried away by his enthusiasms, sometimes even into absurdity. But he was a thoroughly good fellow, and had not the slightest aptitude or taste for intrigue. Mrs. Shiffney saw his hesitation.
"I will ask them," she said, "Charmian Heath will love to know them, I'm sure. She has such a fine taste in celebrities."
On a brilliant day in the first week of February The Wanderer glided into the harbor of Algiers, and, like a sentient being with a discriminating brain, picked her way to her moorings. On board of her were Mrs. Shiffney, Susan Fleet, Madame Sennier, Jacques Sennier, and Max Elliot.