“Confound it!” he muttered, going he hardly knew whither. “What bewitchingly lovely eyes that girl has, though she is so cold and formal; what magnificent hair, and the grace of a queen! I wish her better luck. Why couldn’t the old man have left his money rationally, and not make such a silly, preposterous, aggravating muddle behind him! Well, after all, I have nobody to blame but myself. My sins be on my own head; only I wish nobody else had been dragged in. If it were not for my mother, I should not care so much. Yet, after all, why need I linger in this life of misery? Would it not be better--better to stable my white elephant in the neighboring mews, and so let my fatal secret out at once?” He laughed aloud, cynically, bitterly. Having escaped from the neighborhood of Lady Quaintree’s party, he took a turn to ascertain if his mother was in the gardens, for she had sent him a pressing message to ask him to meet her; but finding that she had not, apparently, arrived, he walked listlessly away at random. Attracted by the solitary aspect of the quarter, he roamed toward the place where the lions and tigers lay, strode to and fro with stealthy step, or sat with magisterial gravity. Paul Desfrayne had walked literally into the lion’s den. A woman, young, strikingly handsome, dressed to perfection, was standing in front of the center compartment. Madam Lucia Guiscardini! Had any one of the brutes strolled out of its den, and held out a paw of greeting, the young man’s face could scarcely have worn an expression of greater dismay. Had it been possible, he would have retreated. But the first sound of his firm, light step, made the superb Italian turn. A heavy frown darkened her perfectly beautiful countenance, and she steadfastly gazed upon Captain Desfrayne with much the same look as the dangerous animals at her elbow had. Paul Desfrayne raised his hat mechanically. Madam Guiscardini took her small hands from off the railing, where they had been placed with an odd sort of grasp, and swept a curtsy almost ironical in its suavity. The young man was obliged to advance, while Madam Guiscardini would not move an inch from the spot where she stood, continuing to gaze at him with that disagreeable, mesmeric expression which so painfully resembled the look of the wild beasts that made so suggestive a background. “Good morning, Madam Guiscardini,” said Paul Desfrayne, folding his arms, as if to prepare himself for a stormy interview. “Did you come here to seek me, Paul Desfrayne?” she inquired, regarding him with a baleful light in her splendid eyes, defiance in every tone and gesture. “To seek you!” bitterly repeated the young man. “I would go to the end of the world to avoid you--you who----” “Come. It is a long time since we have met, and we may be interrupted at any moment. If you have anything to say to me, I am willing to go home now, and either wait for you, or let you precede me. We have not met since----”