“Nat--Nat Fulmer?” Ursula laughed derisively. “Ah, of course--you’ve been staying with that silly Violet! The poor thing is off her head about Nat--it’s really pitiful. Of course he has talent: I saw that long before Violet had ever heard of him. Why, on the opening day of the American Artists’ exhibition, last winter, I stopped short before his ‘Spring Snow-Storm’ (which nobody else had noticed till that moment), and said to the Prince, who was with me: ‘The man has talent.’ But genius--why, it’s his wife who has genius! Have you never heard Grace play the violin? Poor Violet, as usual, is off on the wrong tack. I’ve given Fulmer my garden-house to do--no doubt Violet told you--because I wanted to help him. But Grace is my discovery, and I’m determined to make her known, and to have every one understand that she is the genius of the two. I’ve told her she simply must come to Ruan, and bring the best accompanyist she can find. You know poor Nerone is dreadfully bored by sport, though of course he goes out with the guns. And if one didn’t have a little art in the evening.... Oh, Susy, do you mean to tell me you don’t know how to choose a piano? I thought you were so fond of music!” “I am fond of it; but without knowing anything about it--in the way we’re all of us fond of the worthwhile things in our stupid set,” she added to herself--since it was obviously useless to impart such reflections to Ursula. “But are you sure Grace is coming?” she questioned aloud. “Quite sure. Why shouldn’t she? I wired to her yesterday. I’m giving her a thousand dollars and all her expenses.” It was not till they were having tea in a Piccadilly tea-room that Mrs. Gillow began to manifest some interest in her companion’s plans. The thought of losing Susy became suddenly intolerable to her. The Prince, who did not see why he should be expected to linger in London out of season, was already at Ruan, and Ursula could not face the evening and the whole of the next day by herself. “But what are you doing in town, darling, I don’t remember if I’ve asked you,” she said, resting her firm elbows on the tea-table while she took a light from Susy’s cigarette. Susy hesitated. She had foreseen that the time must soon come when she should have to give some account of herself; and why should she not begin by telling Ursula? But telling her what? Her silence appeared to strike Mrs. Gillow as a reproach, and she continued with compunction: “And Nick? Nick’s with you? How is he, I thought you and he still were in Venice with Ellie Vanderlyn.” “We were, for a few weeks.” She steadied her voice. “It was delightful. But now we’re both on our own again--for a while.” Mrs. Gillow scrutinized her more searchingly. “Oh, you’re alone here, then; quite alone?” “Yes: Nick’s cruising with some friends in the Mediterranean.” Ursula’s shallow gaze deepened singularly. “But, Susy darling, then if you’re alone--and out of a job, just for the moment?”