"Well, you know, Lord Dollamore, I'm staying at the Russie, and I've made myself so agreeable to Malmedie, the landlord there, by little bits of civility, that he generally comes up to my room in the morning and lets me know all that is going on. He showed me a letter that he had about a week ago, written in French, saying that a lady wanted rooms reserved for herself and maid; that she would not dine at the _table-d'hôte_, being an invalid, and coming only for the benefit of the air and springs, but should require dinner and all her meals served in her own rooms. The French of the letter was excellent, but the idea of retirement looked essentially English. I never knew a Frenchwoman, in however bad a state of health, who could resist the attractions of society; so, though I said nothing to Malmedie, I guessed at once the lady was English; and as there seemed a mystery, I determined to penetrate it." Lord Dollamore smiled, and whispered something to his stick; something of which the French word "_chiffonnier_" and the English word "garbage" were component parts; but Mr. Aldermaston did not hear the sentence, and only marking the smile, proceeded: "They were expected on Wednesday afternoon, and I took care to be about. They came in the _eilwagen_ from Carlsruhe,--a deuced fine-looking woman, with her face hidden in a thick black veil, and a very neat trim little French waiting-maid. The servant was French, but the boxes were English,--I'd take my oath of that. There was a substantial solidity about their make, a certainty about their locks and hinges, such as never yet was seen on a French box, I'll stake my existence." "You have wonderful powers of observation, Mr. Aldermaston," said Dollamore, still grinning. "Your lordship flatters me. I have a pair of eyes, and I think I can use them. I kept them pretty tightly fixed on the movements of the new-comers. Dinner was sent up to their rooms, but before it went up the lady's-maid went out. I was strolling about myself, with nothing to do just at that time, so I strolled after her. She went into the Angleterre, and in a few minutes came tripping out again. She went back to the Russie, and so did I. I had nothing to do, and sat down in the porch, behind one of those tubs with the orange-trees, to smoke a cigar. While I was smoking it, who should come up but Prince Tchernigow?" "Prince Tchernigow!" cried Lord Dollamore. "_Connu!_ I'm in full cry now, Mr. Aldermaston. But continue your story." "Prince Tchernigow," continued Mr. Aldermaston, "and no one else. He asked for Madame Poitevin, in which name the rooms had been taken, and he was shown upstairs. He came the next day twice, twice yesterday; he was there this morning; and just now, as I came away from the _table-d'hôte_, I met him on the steps going in."