“Did you go to Monte Carlo?” [Illustration] “Yes; but I didn’t think much of the game. I liked the little game at San Antonio better, though Aunt Madeleine made only a weak protest at Monaco, after raising a great row in Texas. And it was the same way about slumming. Aunt Madeleine thought it was quite romantic in Naples, but was completely depressed at the vulgarity of going to Pell Street. Papa doesn’t care particularly to have me go unless he takes me himself; and he is more logical. He says that all slums smell alike to him. Do you know that very unexpectedly I had a good time at Mentone. Think of it! The very name sounds drowsy. Nobody ever cuts up at Mentone. I could only think of ‘Ordered South’ and so on. But there was a count there—a Count de—de—I forget now; it was an impossible name anyway; and he was so funny. He was more than serious. He was gloomy. He was more than gloomy. He was Gloom. You should have seen him! I shouldn’t have missed him for anything. He was prodigious—and so stunning looking.” “You must have had a very good time.” “I did. But you can’t imagine what luck I fell into; for there was a Pittsburg girl there, a Miss Gruge, who was—well, she had been ticketed for a title and a lot of money. Then her folks decided to let her go for a title without money, then for money related to a title. And they have kept on marking the poor thing down. You know how it will be. At some special sale she will go for away below cost. It is pitiful. And this Marked Down Girl and her mother simply bothered the Count to death. The more they pestered him the gloomier the Count got with me. I was afraid to cheer him up; it would have ended everything, and the fun of riling Miss Gruge and her mother was too good. Well, one day when Aunt Madeleine had a headache he blurted out a proposal. ‘My dear Count,’ I said, ‘how absurd! Can’t you see that I am only a child? Why, I am not even in society. I’m not to be considered at all. For Heaven’s sake don’t let papa hear of this!’ As you might suppose, this made the Count even gloomier than ever. O, I hated to leave him!” “I’m afraid you are a trifle cruel.” “It isn’t cruelty; it’s a sense of humor.” “You will be punished some day when you meet the man who has the right sense of humor. Perhaps he will have a dash of romantic gray, and fine teeth, and be maddeningly unserious—” “O, I have met him already!” “Indeed?” [Illustration]