Frobisher laughed, and protested that each must solve the problem for himself. He liked to puzzle and bewilder Lefroy, and he was doing both effectively at the present moment. The Count would have liked to take the little man by the shoulders and shake him heartily. "I believe you know who she is," he growled. "Come, Frobisher, gratify my curiosity." "I will refresh it if you like," Frobisher said with one of his sudden grins. "I am not positively sure, but I fancy I can give a pretty shrewd guess as to the identity of Madame Incognita. But would it be fair to give her secret away before supper-time? Patience, my fire-eater." The lady of the rubies passed along leaning on the arm of her companion. She gave one glance in Frobisher’s direction, and Lefroy looked eagerly for some sign of recognition. But the dark eyes were absolutely blank so far as the master of the house was concerned. Lefroy turned and followed the couple in front. As Frobisher lounged back to the smoking-room for another cigarette, he almost ran into his wife. As hostess she was wearing no mask. Her beautiful face was just a little set and tired. "Seems to be all right," Frobisher croaked. "They appear to be enjoying themselves. And yet half of them would like better to come to my funeral. Some pretty dresses here, but one head and shoulders over the others. "You mean the ruby guise," Lady Frobisher exclaimed, with some animation. "Is it not superb! So daring, and yet in the best of taste. Everybody is asking who she is and nobody seems to know. I declare I feel quite proud of my mystery." "An angel unawares," Frobisher laughed silently. "You never can tell. And you mean to say that you can’t guess who it is that is exciting all this attention?" Lady Frobisher looked swiftly down into the face of her husband. The corrugated grin, the impish mischief told her a story. It seemed very hard that the woman she most desired to keep in the background was actually creating the sensation of the evening. "Mrs. Benstein," she whispered. "Clement, do you really think so?" "My dear, I am absolutely certain of it. And why not? Isn’t Mrs. Benstein as well-bred as a score of American women here to-night? Doesn’t she carry a long pedigree in that lovely face of hers? Some folks here to-night suffer from a pedigree so old that even their grandfathers are lost in the mists of antiquity. What short-sighted creatures you women are! Can’t you see that a creature so rich and daring and clever as Mrs. Benstein will be riding on the crest of the wave within a year? And you will gain kudos from the mere fact that your house saw her début into ’society’—Heaven save the mark!"