She smiled at him with languid approval, as if he were some paid
jester, and went into the breakfast-room. There were others there
beside Lady Clansford--most of them the young people--it is, alas! only
the young who can sleep through the bright hours of a summer's
morn--and a discussion on the programme of the day was being carried on
with a babel of voices and much laughter.

"You shall decide for us, Miss Falconer!" exclaimed one of the young
men, whose only name appeared to be Bertie, for he was always addressed
as and spoken of by it. "It's a toss-up between a drive and a turn on
the lake in the electric launch. _I_ proposed a sail, but there seemed
to be a confirmed and general scepticism as to my yachting capacities,
and Lady Plaistow says she doesn't want to be drowned before the end of
the season. What would you like to do?"

"Sit somewhere in the shade with a book," she replied, promptly but
slowly.

There was a shout of laughter.

"That is just what Mr. Howard replied," said Bertie, complainingly.

"Oh, Mr. Howard! Everyone knows that he is the laziest man in the whole
world," remarked Lady Clansford, plaintively. "What is Mr. Orme going
to do? Where is he? Does anyone know?"

There was a general shaking of heads and a chorus of "Noes."