“Perhaps it is best, countess, that we meet on the common ground of distrust.” She started away from him. The remark stung her, and he could see that it had done so, although he had not intended to hurt her by what he said. For a moment she stared at him, hard-eyed, suddenly cold, and he caught a glimpse of the other side of this woman’s character. “We meet on the common ground of distrust,” she repeated after him. “So be it. I was not minded to have it so; but so be it. The common ground of distrust, say you! So be it. Mr. Carter, I must become willfully guilty of a grave breach of courtesy. I must tell you to your face that your presence here in my home is not congenial. I must ask you to leave it. I must inform you that your presence will not be tolerated here again.” The detective stared at her in amazement. He had not expected this; had not anticipated anything of the kind. Truly hers was a many-sided character. While he stared, she smiled ironically upon him. Then she raised her two hands and clapped them together loudly. Instantly in response to the signal, many who were in the conservatory came toward them, and two servants hastened forward also, as if the clapping of her hands were a well-known signal to them. Juno did not speak again until many of her guests and the servants were quite near. Then she turned and spoke again, directly to the detective. “Mr. Carter,” she said, and there was no mistaking tone and air of offense which she managed to introduce into her voice and manner, “my servants will show you the way out. I believe that is all.” With a gesture that was worthy of an offended queen, she turned away from him, while the guests who had been observers of the scene stood and stared. One of the two servants moved forward. “This way if you please, sir,” he said. He had received his orders and he meant to execute them. Alexis Turnieff strode forward to the centre of the group. His face was white and drawn with concentrated passion. “One moment——” he began; but by a gesture Juno stopped him. “Not another word, Alexis,” she said sharply. “Your arm, if you please.” And then: “My servants will show this man the way out. Come.” CHAPTER XXVIII. A FIGHT IN THE STREET. Nick Carter stopped at the corner just below the house to consider what had happened. Unceremoniously he had been ejected from the home of the countess. Undeniably she had defied him, and she had managed to do it in the presence of many others among her guests. There was no doubt whatever that the affair would be the talk of the town by another day, and it would be surprising indeed if the whole thing were not a column long, or more in the morning papers. The detective had been placed in many trying positions during the course of his experience, but never had he met with one which had been quite so original as this one.