“Zoe,” said Harrington gravely, “something tells me I am going to meet my fate.” “All the better,” said Zoe. “I wish you to meet your fate. My love for my brother is not selfish. I am sure she is a good woman. Perhaps I may find out something.” “About what?” “Oh, never mind.” CHAPTER VIII. ALL this time Ina Klosking was rehearsing at the theater, quite unconscious of the impending visit. A royal personage had commanded “Il Barbiere,” the part of Rosina to be restored to the original key. It was written for a contralto, but transposed by the influence of Grisi. Having no performance that night, they began to rehearse rather later than usual, and did not leave off till a quarter to four o'clock. Ina, who suffered a good deal at rehearsals from the inaccuracy and apathy of the people, went home fagged, and with her throat parched--so does a bad rehearsal affect all good and earnest artists. She ordered a cutlet, with potato chips, and lay down on the sofa. While she was reposing, came Joseph Ashmead, to cheer her, with good photographs of her, taken the day before. She smiled gratefully at his zeal. He also reminded her that he had orders to take her to the Kursaal: he said the tables would be well filled from five o'clock till quite late, there being no other entertainment on foot that evening. Ina thanked him, and said she would not miss going on any account; but she was rather fatigued and faint. “Oh, I'll wait for you as long as you like,” said Ashmead, kindly. “No, my good comrade,” said Ina. “I will ask you to go to the manager and get me a little money, and then to the Kursaal and secure me a place at the table in the largest room. There I will join you. If _he_ is not there--and I am not so mad as to think he will be there--I shall risk a few pieces myself, to be nearer him in mind.” This amazed Ashmead; it was so unlike her. “You are joking,” said he. “Why, if you lose five napoleons at play, it will be your death; you will grizzle so.” “Yes; but I shall not lose. I am too unlucky in love to lose at cards. I mean to play this afternoon; and never again in all my life. Sir, I am resolved.” “Oh, if you are resolved, there is no more to be said. I won't run my head against a brick wall.” Ina, being half a foreigner, thought this rather brusk. She looked at him askant, and said, quietly, “Others, besides me, can be stubborn, and get their own way, while speaking the language of submission. Not I invented volition.” With this flea in his ear, the faithful Joseph went off, chuckling, and obtained an advance from the manager, and then proceeded to the principal gaming-table, and, after waiting some time, secured a chair, which he kept for his chief.