Clodagh looked up. She was uncertain whether the suggestion had been made in jest or earnest, and the smiling, searching glance of her hostess did not enlighten her. With a slight feeling of embarrassment, she broke off abruptly into another channel of talk. "And how is Mr. Barnard?" she asked. "Barny! Oh, optimistic as ever!" "Then there is one amusing person left in England!" Lady Frances laughed. "Only temporarily. He takes his holiday next month. Last March he joined the Luards and me in Naples, and we all went on to Sicily. It was tremendous fun." She laughed again over some recollection; and entered upon a history of her Sicilian adventures that occupied the rest of dinner. At the termination of the meal, however, when the waiters had brought in coffee and silently retired, she dropped her reminiscent tone, and, rising from table, moved back to the divan, which was drawn pleasantly near to a bright wood fire. "Come here, and let's be comfortable!" she said. "I always have a cigarette after dinner. I forget whether you smoke." Clodagh smiled, as she came slowly forward. "Not since my cousin and I used to smoke in the top branches of an apple tree in Ireland. I should be afraid to try the experiment again; I might lose an illusion. No other cigarettes could taste like those stolen ones!" She gave a little sigh, then a little laugh, and seated herself. Lady Frances looked up from the cigarette she was drawing from her case. "Illusions!" she said. "Why, life is all illusions at your age!" She paused; then, after a moment's silence, went on again, but in a slower, more considered voice: "You thought I was jesting at dinner, when I asked you to come south with me. But I wasn't. I meant it." She struck a match and lighted her cigarette. "You don't know how you would enjoy Nice. You lost yourself in the delights of roulette at Venice. Think what Monte Carlo would be!" With a sudden tumultuous confusion, Clodagh flushed. "I--I have ceased to care about things like that," she said in a hurried voice. Lady Frances's expression changed to one of deep interest, sharpened by surprise. "Ceased to care?" she repeated softly. "Since when? And why?" "Since"--Clodagh hesitated--"oh, since that time in Venice." Her hostess flicked the ash from her cigarette. "Some new influence?" Clodagh was taken unawares. "I--I have got to know myself better since that time in Venice," she said below her breath. "Some one--something--has made me see that it was not my true self that showed then. I was foolish in those days. I was carried away----" A very faint smile flitted across Lady Frances's lips. "That idea belongs to the some one else?" she said in a quiet, cordial tone that invited confidence.