who believes in her or suspects her. Even the simplicity with which he indulged his reveries in the midst of this crowd and on the lounge of a gaming-house was enough to prove a youthfulness of heart and imagination rare at his age. Corancez's companions were struck at the same time with this naïve contrast, and each made to herself a little exclamation in her native tongue:-- "_Com'è simpatico_," murmured the Italian. "_Oh, you dear boy_," said Miss Florence. "And with whom is he in love?" they asked together. "I could give you a hundred to guess," said Corancez, "but you could not. Never mind. It is not a secret that was confided to me; I discovered it myself, so I am not bound to keep it. Well, the _sympathetic_, dear boy has chosen to fall in love with our friend Madame de Carlsberg, the Baroness Ely, herself. She has been here for six days with Madame Brion, and this poor boy has not been able to remain away from her. He wished to see her without her knowing. He must have been wandering around the Villa Brion, waiting for her to come out. See the dust on his shoes and trousers. Then, having doubtless heard that the Baroness spends her evenings here, he has come to watch her. He has not found her in this crowd. That is how we love," he added, with a look at the Marquise, "when we do love." "And the Baroness?" "You wish to know whether or not the Baroness loves him? Luckily you and Miss Florence believe in hands, for it is only through my talent for fortunetelling that I can answer you. You are interested? Well," he continued, with his peculiar air of seriousness and mystification, "she has in her hand a red heart-line, which indicates a violent passion, and there is a mark that places this passion near her thirtieth year, which is just her present age. By the way, did I never tell you that she has also on the Mount of Jupiter, there, a perfect star--one of whose rays forms a cross of union?" "And that means?" inquired the American girl, with the interest that the people of the most materialistic country have for all questions of a supernatural order, for everything that pertains to what they call "spiritualism." "Marriage with a prince," replied the Southerner. There was a minute of silence, during which Corancez continued to watch Pierre Hautefeuille with great attention. Suddenly his eyes sparkled with an idea that had just occurred to him:-- "Marquise. The witness we need for the ceremony at Genoa. Why not have him? I think he would bring us good luck." "That is so," said Madame Bonnacorsi; "it is delightful to meet with a face like that at certain moments of one's life. But would it be wise?" "If I propose him to you," Corancez replied, "you may be sure that I answer for his discretion. We have known each other since our boyhood, Hautefeuille and I; he is solid gold. And how much safer than a hired witness, who could at any time betray us." "Will he accept?"