“My dear Elinor, I don’t think you quite understand Ralph! He has
been terribly spoilt, you know, and when men have been accustomed to
attention they will take it wherever they can get it! He has come over
here expressly to be with you, so I think you should give him every
minute of your time. Men are fickle creatures, my dear! It will take
some time yet to despoil them of the idea that women were made for
their convenience.”

“I am afraid the man is not born yet for whose convenience I was made!”

“Well! you know the old saying: ‘Most women can catch a man, but it
takes a clever woman to keep him.’ I don’t mean to insinuate that
you are in any danger of losing Ralph, but I think he’s quite worth
keeping, and, I believe, you think so too!”

“And I mean to keep him!” replied Miss Leyton, as she went on writing. Margaret did not venture to give her any further hints, but returned to
her own room, and took another look through her spyglass. The bathers in whom she was interested had returned to their machines
by this time, and presently emerged, “clothed and in their right
minds,” Miss Brandt looking more attractive than before, with her long
hair hanging down her back to dry. And then, that occurred which she
had been anticipating. Captain Pullen, having taken a survey of the
beach, and seeing none of his own party there, climbed with Harriet
Brandt to where they were high and dry above the tide, and threw
himself down on the hot, loose sand by her side, whilst the Baron and
Baroness with a laughing injunction to the two young people, to take
care of themselves, toiled up to the Digue and walked off in another
direction. When they all met at _déjeuner_, she attacked her brother-in-law on the
subject. “Have you been bathing all this while?” she said to him, “you must have
stayed very long in the water!”

“O! dear no!” he replied, “I wasn’t in above a quarter of an hour!”

“And what have you been doing since?”

“Strolling about, looking for you and Elinor!” said Captain Pullen. “Why the dickens didn’t you come out this lovely morning?”

“I could not leave baby!” cried Margaret shortly. “And I was writing,” chimed in Elinor. “Very well, ladies, if you prefer your own company to mine, of course I
have nothing to say against it! But I suppose you are not going to shut
yourselves up this afternoon!”

“O! no. It is a public duty to attend the _Bataille de Fleurs_. Have
you bought any confetti, Ralph?”

“I have! Miss Brandt was good enough to show me where to get them, and
we are well provided. There is to be a race between lady jockeys at the
end of the Digue too, I perceive!”

“What, with horses?”

“I conclude so. I see they have railed in a portion of ground for the
purpose,” replied Captain Pullen. “’Ow could they race without ’orses?” called out the Baroness. Harriet Brandt did not join in the conversation, but she was gazing
all the while at Ralph Pullen--not furtively as she had done the day
before, but openly, and unabashedly, as though she held a proprietary
right in him. Margaret noticed her manner at once and interpreted it
aright, but Miss Leyton, true to her principles, never raised her eyes
in her direction and ignored everything that came from that side of the
table. Mrs. Pullen was annoyed; she knew how angry Elinor would be if she
intercepted any telegraphic communication between her lover and Miss
Brandt; and she rose from the table as soon as possible, in order to
avert such a catastrophe. She had never considered her brother-in-law
a very warm wooer, and she fancied that his manner towards Miss Leyton
was more indifferent than usual. She took one turn with them along
the Digue to admire the flower-bedecked villas, which were in full
beauty, and then returned to her nursery, glad of an excuse to leave
them together, and give Elinor a chance of becoming more cordial and
affectionate to Ralph, than she had yet appeared to be. The lovers had
not been alone long, however, before they were waylaid, to the intense
disgust of Elinor, by Harriet Brandt and her friend, Olga Brimont. Still further to her annoyance, Captain Pullen seemed almost to welcome
the impertinent interference of the two girls, who could scarcely have
had the audacity to join their company, unless he had invited them to
do so. “The _charrettes_ are just about to start!” exclaimed Harriet. “O! they are lovely, and such dear little children! I am so glad that the
_Bataille de Fleurs_ takes place to-day, because my friend’s brother,
Alfred Brimont, is coming to take her to Brussels the day after
to-morrow!”

“Brussels is a jolly place. Mademoiselle Brimont will enjoy
herself there,” said Ralph. “There are theatres, and balls and
picture-galleries, and every pleasure that a young lady’s heart can
desire!”

“Have you been to Brussels?” asked Harriet. “Yes! when I was a nasty little boy in jacket and trousers. I was
placed at Mr. Jackson’s English school there, in order that I might
learn French, but I’m afraid that was the last thing I acquired. The
Jackson boys were known all over the town for the greatest nuisances in
it!”

“What did you do?”

“What did we _not_ do? We tore up and down the rue Montagne de la
Cour at all hours of the day, shouting and screaming and getting into
scrapes. We ran up bills at the shops which we had no money to pay--we
appeared at every place of amusement--and we made love to all the
school-girls, till we had become a terror to the school-mistresses.”

“What naughty boys!” remarked Miss Brandt, with a side glance at Miss
Leyton. She did not like to say all she thought before this very stiff
and proper young English lady. “But Captain Pullen,” she continued,
“where are the confetti? Have you forgotten them? Shall I go and buy
some more?”

“No! no! my pockets are stuffed with them,” he said, producing two
bags, of which he handed Harriet one. Her thanks were conveyed by
throwing a large handful of tiny pieces of blue and white and pink
paper (which do duty for the more dangerous chalk sugar-plums) at
him and which covered his tweed suit and sprinkled his fair hair and
moustaches. He returned the compliment by flying after her retreating
figure, and liberally showering confetti upon her. “O! Ralph! I do hope you are not going to engage in this horse-play,”
exclaimed Elinor Leyton, “because if so I would rather return to the
Hotel. Surely, we may leave such vulgarities to the common people,
and--Miss Harriet Brandt!”

“What nonsense!” he replied. “It’s evident you’ve never been in Rome
during the Carnival! Why, everyone does it! It’s the national custom. If you imagine I’m going to stand by, like a British tourist and stare
at everything, without joining in the fun, you’re very much mistaken!”

“But is it fun?” questioned Miss Leyton. “To me it is! Here goes!” he cried, as he threw a handful of paper
into the face of a passing stranger, who gave him as good as she had
got, in return.