"I'll say nothing of the kind!" cried Gwendolen, indignantly. "It would please Mrs. Stunt too much. Oh, they will be waiting to question me about you. Mrs. Stunt's eyes will glare like those of a hungry hyena. I shall tell them that you are superbly indifferent. That will fetch them! Mrs. Stunt, as it is, will be the first to enter your reception-rooms,--the odious little painted ghoul!" All brightness had faded from the young faces. Each stared upon troubled visions. "Since we are on such topics, Yuki," Gwendolen began, "I might as well tell you and have done with it,--Pierre himself is acting like a spoiled child, a cad. He wants to make trouble." "His threat is to harm Prince Hagané, is it not?" "Yes! But who told you?" She looked sharply at her companion. Yuki apparently had not heard. Gwendolen went on. "Dad simply laughs at him for a foolish blusterer. He says a cricket might as well shake its fists at a grain elevator." "There is no rumor at all that Pierre may go home to France?" "Absolutely none. Ronsard is using him as a cat's-paw. Since your marriage Pierre has been openly announced Second Secretary of the French Legation. A sinecure, but it gives him entrée to all court functions,--to official receptions,--to--_your_ reception, Yuki." "I have thought of this also," said Yuki. "He could not harm my husband in such an open place." "No, but with that demon of a Ronsard behind him he could embarrass, perhaps mortify, both you and Hagané." Yuki fell silent. Her slim hands clasped and unclasped nervously. Her eyes were fixed on a spot of carpet near her feet. "Of course it is certain that so great statesman as Hagané thought of all such dangers before he wished to marry me," she murmured, as much to herself as her companion. "Good gracious, Yuki Onda!" broke in Gwendolen, with startling abruptness. "What are those fearful scars on your hands? Did they torture you after all?" Gwendolen's shocked face and horrified tone expressed more than she would willingly have admitted. Yuki's eyes flashed once. She drew her hands within her sleeves. "How can you say such silly thing? Nipponese do not torture!" Gwendolen, to hide her emotion (for she did not entirely believe Yuki's vehement asseveration) sprang up and began walking up and down the room, near the sofa where Yuki sat, watching her. "What is it that you were about to warn me of Monsieur Le Beau?" asked the latter, calmly.