for she seemed so extremely intelligent and well-informed.

"Oh, yes. We've been to Mexico, and to Panama, besides Morocco, Egypt,
and the West Coast of Africa."

"And you've actually landed at Leghorn!" I remarked.

"Yes, but we didn't stay there more than an hour--to send a telegram, I
think it was. Father said there was nothing to see there. He and I went
ashore, and I must say I was rather disappointed."

"You are quite right. The town itself is ugly and uninteresting. But the
outskirts--San Jacopo, Ardenza and Antigniano are all delightful. It was
unfortunate that you did not see them. Was it long ago when you put in
there?"

"Not very long. I really don't recollect the exact date," was her reply.
"We were on our way home from Alexandria."

"Have you ever, in any of the ports you've been, seen a yacht called the
_Lola_?" I asked eagerly, for it occurred to me that perhaps she might
be able to give me information.

"The _Lola_!" she gasped, and instantly her face changed. A flush
overspread her cheeks, succeeded next moment by a death-like pallor.
"The _Lola_!" she repeated in a strange, hoarse voice, at the same time
endeavoring strenuously not to exhibit any apprehension. "No. I have
never heard of any such a vessel. Is she a steam-yacht? Who's her
owner?"