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 and guide. When the man began to understand that we were all more interested in the whereabouts of the chauffeur than of the mistresses, he added that one of the servants of the hotel who had just been down to the station had mentioned meeting the chauffeur in very smart clothes (quite different from when he had been with the ladies) going down the hill towards Santa Margherita, Sir Evelyn Haines' house, where there was a big reception on.

While we were talking another man came out—a sort of under-porter, and when he heard our porter telling that Miss Randolph had gone up to Mola, he said in that case he had made a great mistake, for he had sent an American gentleman who had been inquiring for her to the wrong place. He had supposed that she would be at Sir Evelyn Haines' house, for a bazaar was being held there for the benefit of a charity, and almost all the English and Americans at the hotel San Domenico and the other Taormina hotels had gone to it. The gentleman seemed in a great hurry, the porter had noticed; and he had said that he had come from Palermo in a special train, so as not to waste any time.

"Ah, didn't I tell you what Chauncey Randolph would do?" exclaimed Mr. Payne, turning to me as if we were old friends. I believe Chauncey Randolph has the reputation of being a millionaire; but I don't suppose he's got any more money or is a bit more important than Pa.

We had kept our cab, which was waiting outside, and after a few minutes' discussion between Lady B. and Mr. Payne, it was decided that we should drive