"Then it is certainly time for me to go," she said lightly. "It wouldn't be safe for me to stay to hear everything. Come, girls: let's walk over to the field." The sitters rose, and they moved toward the other end of the piazza. "It is really too early to go to the field," May said, "why don't we walk out to the new golf-holes first? I want to see how they've changed the drive over the brook." "Very well," Mrs. Harbinger assented. "The shortest way is to go through the house." They passed in through a long window, and as they went Alice Endicott lingered a little with the Count. That part of the piazza was at the moment deserted, and so when before entering the house she dropped her parasol and waited for her companion to pick it up for her, they were practically alone. "Thank you, Count," she said, as he handed her the parasol. "I am sorry to trouble you." "Nodings what eet ees dat I do for Mees Endeecott ees trouble." "Is that true?" she asked, pausing with her foot on the threshold, and turning back to him. "If I could believe it there are two favors that I should like to ask." "Two favors?" he repeated. "Ah, I weell be heavenlee happee eef eet ees dat I do two favors." "One is for myself," she said, "and the other is for Miss Wentstile. I'm sure you won't refuse me." "Who could refuse one ladee so loovlaie!" "The first is," Alice went on, paying no heed to the Count's florid compliments, "that you give me the letter Mrs. Neligage gave you yesterday." "But de ladee what have wrote eet--" "The lady that wrote it," Alice interrupted, "desires to have it again." "Den weell I to her eet geeve," said the Count. "But she has empowered me to receive it." "But dat eet do not empower me eet to geeve." "Then you decline to let me have it, Count?" "Ah, I am desolation, Mees Endeecott, for dat I do not what you desaire; but I weell rather to do de oder t'ing what you have weesh." "I am afraid, Count, that your willingness to oblige goes no farther than to let you do what you wish, instead of what I wish. I only wanted to know where you have known Mrs. Neligage." "Ah," he exclaimed, "dat is what Mees Wentsteele have ask. My dear young lady, eet ees not dat you can be jealous dat once I have known Madame Neleegaze?" She faced him with a look of astonishment so complete that the most simple could not misunderstand it. Then the look changed into profound disdain. "Jealous!" she repeated. "I jealous, and of you, Count!" Her look ended in a smile, as if her sense of humor found the idea of jealousy too droll to admit of indignation, and she turned to go in through the window, leaving the Count hesitating behind. XIII THE WILE OF A WOMAN Before the Count had recovered himself sufficiently to go after Miss Endicott despite her look of contempt and her yet more significant amusement, Jack Neligage came toward him down the piazza, and called him by name.