Madam put out one tiny foot to reach her brougham, but drew back with a deep breath that narrowly escaped being a cry of alarm. Standing just within the portico was a tall, gentlemanly-looking man, a stranger to her, hat in hand, waiting to address her. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE INLAID CABINET. The sight of any and every stranger who spoke to or even looked at Lucia must henceforth inevitably cause her a thrill of fear. She had never seen this handsome young man with the dark, grave, penetrating eyes before, to her knowledge; yet he looked at her as if he would read her very soul. Frank, the instant the door opened, had bounded from his cab, and was waiting for the signora to issue forth. He bowed profoundly. “Madam Guiscardini, I believe?” he said. He had recognized her at the first glance, having frequently seen her at the opera, both in London and in Paris, and being furthermore made familiar with her strikingly marked features and imperial figure by the innumerable photographs issued by London and Parisian firms. It was impossible for madam to deny her own identity. Frank noticed that she grew pale--perceptibly so, and that the jeweled fingers of her ungloved hand twitched nervously. “My name is Guiscardini,” she replied, after a slight hesitation, and speaking in frigid accents. “May I beg the favor of a few moments’ private conversation with you, madam?” asked Frank Amberley. “My business is of the utmost importance, or I should not delay you just as you are going out.” “Certainly not,” angrily replied the cantatrice, her lips trembling from mingled rage and fear. She imagined that perhaps this gentlemanly fellow, with the handsome face and urbane manners, might be a detective in disguise. “It is impossible, my time is not my own, and I cannot grant you even five minutes.” She glanced at the jeweled watch that hung at her waist amid a coruscation of enameled lockets and miscellaneous toys and trinkets. “I am sorry to be so pressing, madam, but if you will give me ten minutes--I promise to go by the dial of your own watch--I will not trespass longer.” He knew well that the business he came on could not be disposed of in that time, but relied on the hope that she would, if persuaded to enter on it, voluntarily extend the time. “Who are you, and what do you want?” demanded Madam Guiscardini sharply, looking keenly at him. “My name, madam, is Amberley--I have the honor to belong to the firm of Messrs. Salmon, Joyner & Joyner, who are solicitors.” “What do you want? I will not hear you, sir! Let me pass, sir. You are rude and unmannerly not to take a reasonable refusal. Let me pass, sir, I say--I insist!” She tried to push by him, in order to get to her brougham, the door of which was held open by the powdered lackey who had been sitting beside the coachman. Frank Amberley laid a firm, detaining grip on her wrist as she passed by.