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They waited in Istanbul until a telegram arrived, saying that the traveler was safe in his own

palace and that Freddi was well and happy, and sent love to all.

It was too late to visit the coast of Africa—the rains had come, and it was hot, and there

would be mosquitoes. They made themselves contented on the yacht, and did not bother to go

ashore. The dairy farm prospered; the ample refrigerators provided the two young mothers

with fresh foods, and they in turn provided for the infants. The grandmothers hovered over the

scene in such a flutter of excitement as made you think of humming-birds' wings. Really, it

appeared as if there had never been two babies in the world before and never would be again.

Grandmothers, mothers, babies, and attendants formed a closed corporation, a secret society, an

organization of, by, and for women.

It was a machine that ran as by clockwork, and the balance wheel was the grave Miss Severne.

She had been employed to manage only Baby Frances; but she was so highly educated, so

perfectly equipped, that she overawed the Robins; she was the voice of modern science,

speaking the last word as to the phenomena of infancy. Equally important, she had the English

manner, she was Britannia which rules the waves and most of the shores; she was authority, and

the lesser breeds without the law decided to come in. What one grandmother was forbidden to

do was obviously bad form for the other to do; what little Frances's nursemaid was ordered to

do was obviously desirable for little Johannes's nursemaid to do. So in the end Jerusalem

placed itself under the British flag; Rahel made Miss Severne a present now and then, and she

ran the whole enterprise.

Every morning Marceline was in Miss Addington's cabin, reciting her lessons. Mr. Dingle was

in his cabin thinking his new thoughts and saying his old prayers. Madame Zyszynski was in hers,

playing solitaire, or perhaps giving a "sitting." That left Hansi, Bess, and Lanny in the saloon,

the first two working out their interpretation of some great violin classic, and Lanny listening

critically while they played a single passage many times, trying the effect of this and that. Just

what did Beethoven mean by the repetition of this rhythmic pattern? Here he had written

sforzando, but he often wrote that when he meant tenuto, an expressive accent, the sound to

be broadened—but be careful, it is a trick which becomes a bad habit, a meretricious device.

They would discuss back and forth, but always in the end they deferred to Hansi; he was the

one who had the gift, he was the genius who lived music in his soul. Sometimes the spirit caught

them, they became not three souls but one, and it was an hour of glory.

These young people could never be bored on the longest yachting-cruise. They took their art

with them, a storehouse of loveliness, a complex of ingenuities, a treasure-chest of delights

which you could never empty. Lanny had stabbed away at the piano all his life, but now he

discovered that he had been skimming over the surface of a deep ocean. Now he analyzed

scientifically what before he had enjoyed emotionally. Hansi Robin had had a thorough German

training, and had read learned books on harmony, acoustics, the history of music. He studied

the personalities of composers, and he tried to present these to his audiences; he did not try to

turn Mozart into Beethoven, or Gluck into Liszt. He would practice the most difficult Paganini or

Wieniawski stuff, but wouldn't play it in public unless he could find a soul in it. Finger gymnastics

were for your own use.

XII

Every afternoon, if the weather was right, the vessel would come to a halt, and the guests, all

but Mama Robin, would emerge on the deck in bathing-suits; the gangway would be let down

over the side, and they would troop down and plunge into the water. A sailor stood by with

a life-belt attached to a rope, in case of accident; they were all good swimmers, but the efficient

Captain Moeller took no chances and was always on watch himself. When they had played

themselves tired, they would climb up, and the yacht would resume her course. The piano on

little rubber wheels would be rolled out from the saloon, and Hansi and Bess would give an al-

fresco concert; Rahel would sing, and perhaps lead them all in a chorus. Twilight would fall,

"the dusk of centuries and of song."

There was only one trouble on this cruise so far as concerned Lanny, and that was the game

of bridge. Beauty and Irma had to play; not for money, but for points, for something to do.

These ladies knew how to read, in the sense that they knew the meaning of the signs on paper,

but neither knew how to lose herself in a book or apply herself to the mastering of its

contents. They grew sleepy when they tried it; they wanted other people to tell them what was

in books; and Irma at least had always been able to pay for the service. Now she had married a

poor man, and understood it to mean that he was to keep her company. In the world of Irma

Barnes the nursery rhyme had been turned about, and every Jill must have her Jack.

Lanny didn't really mind playing bridge—only there were so many more interesting things

to do. He wanted to continue child study with the two specimens he had on board. He wanted to

read history about the places he visited, so that a town would be where a great mind had

functioned or a martyr had died. But Beauty and Irma were willing to bid five no trumps while

the yacht was pass~ ing the scene of the battle of Salamis. They would both think it inconsiderate

of Lanny if he refused to make a fourth hand because he wanted to write up his notes of the last

seance with Madame Zyszynski. Lanny thought it was important to keep proper records, and

index them, so that the statements of Tecumseh on one occasion could be compared with

those on another. He had the books of Osty and Geley, scientists who had patiently delved into

these phenomena and tried to evolve theories to explain them. This seemed much more

important than whether Culbertson was right in his rules about the total honor-trick-content

requirement of hands.

Irma had persuaded Rahel to prepare herself for life in the beau monde, and Lanny had

helped to teach her. Then he had given the same sort of help to Marceline, who was going to be

thirteen in a short while, and already was the most perfect little society lady you could imagine.

Even on board a yacht she spent much time in front of the mirror, studying her charms and

keeping them at their apex; surely she ought to be preparing to defend herself against those

harpies with signaling-systems who would soon be trying to deprive her of her pocket-money.

After she had been taught, Lanny could plead that he wasn't needed any more, and go back

to the study of Liszt's four-hand piano compositions with Bess: the Concerto Pathetique, a

marvel of brilliant color, turning two pianos into an orchestra; the Don Juan Fantaisie, most

delightful of showpieces— Hansi came in while they were playing it, and said they really ought

to give it on a concert stage. A memorable moment for two humble amateurs.

XIII

The Bessie Budd came to rest in the harbor of Cannes, and the company returned to Bienvenu

for a few days. Beauty wished to renew her wardrobe—one gets so tired of wearing the same

things. Lanny wished to renew the stock of music-scores—one's auditors get tired of hearing the

same compositions. Also, there were stacks of magazines which had been coming in, and