“Elsa, I—”

“Mr. Keith,” said a quiet voice, “desired me to say—”

Martin started away. He glared up furiously. Gazing down upon them stood Keggs. The butler’s face was shining with a gentle benevolence.

“Mr. Keith desired me to say that he would be glad if Miss Elsa would come and sit with him for a while.”

“I’ll come at once,” said Elsa, stepping from the hammock.

The butler bowed respectfully and turned away. They stood watching him as he moved across the terrace.

“What a saintly old man Keggs looks,” said Elsa. “Don’t you think so? He looks as if he had never even thought of doing anything he shouldn’t. I wonder if he ever has?”

“I wonder!” said Martin.

“He looks like a stout angel. What were you saying, Martin, when he came up?”