The day passed merrily, and had it not been for constant thoughts of the man who had loved me and forgotten, I should have enjoyed myself.
Save for one day of mistral, the trip across the Mediterranean proved delightful; and for six days we remained in the white old City of the Corsairs, where we went on excursions, and had a most pleasant time. We visited the Kasbah, drove to the Jardin d'Essai and to the pretty village of St. Eugène, while several of the party went to visit friends who were staying at the big hotels up at Mustapha.
Life in Algiers was, I found, most interesting after the Parisian artificiality and the glitter of Nice and Monte Carlo; and with Lord Eldersfield as my cavalier, I saw all that was worth seeing. We lounged in those gay French cafés under the date-palms in the Place du Gouvernement, strolled up those narrow, ladder-like streets in the old city, and mingled with those crowds of mysterious-looking veiled Arab women who were bargaining for their purchases in the market. All was fresh; all was diverting.
As for Ulrica, she entered thoroughly into the spirit of the new sensation, as she always did, and, with Gerald usually as her escort, went hither and thither with her true tourist habit of poking about everywhere, regardless of contagious diseases or the remarkable variety of bad smells which invariably exist in an Oriental town. Although each day the party went ashore and enjoyed themselves, old Mr. Keppel never accompanied them. He knew the place, he said, and he had some business affairs to attend to in the deck-house, which he kept secret to himself. Therefore he was excused.
"No, Miss Rosselli," he had explained to me in confidence, "I'm no sight-seer. If my guests enjoy seeing a few of the towns on the Mediterranean I am quite contented; but I prefer to remain quiet here, rather than drive about in brakes and revisit places that I have already visited long ago."
"Certainly," I said. "You are under no obligation to these people. They accept your kind hospitality, and the least they can do is to allow you to remain in peace where you wish."
"Yes," he sighed. "I leave them in Gerald's charge. He knows how to look after them."
And his face seemed sad and anxious, as though he were utterly forlorn.
Indeed, after a week at sea we saw but very little of him. He lunched and dined with us in the saloon each day, but never joined our musical parties after dinner, and seldom, if ever, entered the smoking-room. Because all knew him to be eccentric, this apparent disregard of our presence was looked upon as one of his peculiar habits. Upon Gerald devolved the duty of acting as entertainer, and, assisted by Ulrica, old Miss Keppel and myself, he endeavoured to make everyone happy and comfortable. Fortunately, the ubiquitous Barnes had, by Gerald's desire, been left behind at the Villa Fabron.
As day by day we steamed up that tranquil sea in brilliant weather, with our bows ever thrusting themselves toward the dawn, life was one continual round of merriment from three bells, when we breakfasted, until eight bells sounded for turning in. A yachting cruise is very apt to become monotonous, but on the Vispera one had no time for ennui. After Algiers, we put in for a day at Cagliari, then visited Tunis, the Greek Islands, Athens, Smyrna, and Constantinople.