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“Little devils!” said Graham, laughing with triumph.”That’s the modern Greek all over. Your father meant money if he stopped, and they consider we were taking it out of their pocket.”

“Oh, they are terrible—simple savages! I don’t know how I shall ever thank you. You’ve saved my father.”

“I only hope you didn’t think me brutal”

“No,” replied Ethel with a little sigh.”I admire strength.”

Meanwhile the cavalcade reformed, and Mr. Lucas, who, as Mrs. Forman said, bore his disappointment wonderfully well, was put comfortably on to his mule. They hurried up the opposite hillside, fearful of another attack, and it was not until they had left the eventful place far behind that Ethel found an opportunity to speak to her father and ask his pardon for the way she had treated him.

“You seemed so different, dear father, and you quite frightened me. Now I feel that you are your old self again.”

He did not answer, and she concluded that he was not unnaturally offended at her behaviour.

By one of those curious tricks of mountain scenery, the place they had left an hour before suddenly reappeared far below them. The Khan was hidden under the green dome, but in the open there still stood three figures, and through the pure air rose up a faint cry of defiance or farewell.

Mr. Lucas stopped irresolutely, and let the reins fall from his hand.

“Come, father dear,” said Ethel gently.

He obeyed, and in another moment a spur of the hill hid the dangerous scene forever.

II

It wasbreakfast time, but the gas was alight, owing to the fog. Mr. Lucas was in the middle of an account of a bad night he had spent. Ethel, who was to be married in a few weeks, had her arms on the table, listening.

“First the door bell rang, then you came back from the theatre. Then the dog started, and after the dog the cat. And at three in the morning a young hooligan passed by singing. Oh yes: then there was the water gurgling in the pipe above my head.”

“I think that was only the bath water running away,” said Ethel, looking rather worn.

“Well, there’s nothing I dislike more than running water. It’s perfectly impossible to sleep in the house. I shall give it up. I shall give notice next quarter. I shall tell the landlord plainly, ‘The reason I am giving up the house is this: it is perfectly impossible to sleep in it. ’ If he says—says—well, what has he got to say?”

“Some more toast, father?”

“Thank you, my dear.” He took it, and there was an interval of peace.

But he soon recommenced.”I’m not going to submit to the practicing next door as tamely as they think. I wrote and told there so—didn’t I?”

“‘Yes,” said Ethel, who had taken care that the letter should not reach.”I have seen the governess, and she has promised to arrange it differently. And Aunt Julia hates noise. It will be sure to be all right.”

Her aunt, being the only unattached member of the family, was coming to keep house for her father when she left him. The reference was not a happy one, and Mr. Lucas commenced a series of half articulate sighs, which was only stopped by the arrival of the post.

“Oh, what a parcel!” cried Ethel.”For me! What can it be! Greek stamps. This is most exciting!”

It proved to be some asphodel bulbs, sent by Mrs. Forman from Athens for planting in the conservatory.

“Doesn’t it bring it all back! You remember the asphodels, father. And all wrapped up in Greek newspapers. I wonder if I can read them still, I used to be able to, you know.”