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 visitor's hostess or not, but his easy frankness made embarrassment impossible.

"Come," he suggested, "let's have a look round, What a stunning old place it is. This ballroom floor—perfect for dancing! We must have a little music presently. And the terrace—delightful place to cool off between dances. Something green, I was thinking"

"Something green?" Nyla did not quite follow the quick transitions of the special agent's mind; but she understood, of course, that men accustomed to dispatch complicated international business would live at a speedier tempo than the simple libertads of a rustic republic.

"For your frock. Something green, of an airy floating nature, and the stockings that are so popular in Parisjust now—thecolour of Camembert cheese—would be the very thing for dancing. A few Chinese lanterns, not too many, strung here on the terrace. And by Jove, how well a canoe would go on the moat."

Nyla was wondering, a little uncomfortably, whether her quite modest wardrobe was chic