"I admit that. But you know more than you have told me, Signor Prati," and then added: "Because the woman has risen to such high favor and her actions have always shown her to be intensely charitable, there is no reason why she should not be wearing a mask--eh?" He only laughed, and, shrugging his shoulders, replied: "Go to Naples and seek for yourself. The suspicions of 'The Golden Face' are well-grounded, I assure you." So, unconvinced, I returned to the Grand Hotel full of wonder. I was not satisfied, so I determined to take Prati's advice and see for myself what manner of woman was this Marchesa. Fortunately, although it was out of the season, she was in Naples. Having two old friends there I went south with my companions two days later, and we installed ourselves at the Palace Hotel with its wonderful views across the bay. I had little difficulty in obtaining an introduction to the woman whom I sought. It took place one evening at the house of one of my friends, who was now a Deputy. When she heard my name, I noticed that she started slightly, but I bowed over her hand in pretense of ignorance. She expressed gratification at meeting me, and soon we were chatting pleasantly. She was a handsome woman of about forty-five, dark-haired and beautifully gowned. With her was her daughter Flavia, a pretty, dark-eyed girl of twenty or so, bright, vivacious, and very _chic_. The latter spoke English excellently, and told me that she had been at school for years at Cheltenham. CHAPTER XII THE SILVER SPIDER That night, after a chat with Lola, I sat in my room at the palace and could not help recollecting how strangely the Marchesa had started when my name had been uttered. Did she know of my connection with "The Golden Face"? If she did, then she might naturally suspect me and hold me at arm's length. Yet if she feared me, why should she have asked me, as well as Lola and Madame, to call at the Palazzo Romanelli? I had thanked her, and accepted. Therefore on Tuesday night, with Lola and Madame both smartly dressed, I went to the huge, old fifteenth-century palace, grim and prison-like because of its heavily barred windows of the days when every palazzo was a fortress, and within found it the acme of luxury and refinement, its great salons filled with priceless pictures and ancient statuary, and magnificent furniture of the Renaissance. About thirty people were present, most of them the elite of Naples society, all the ladies being exquisitely dressed. My hostess expressed delight as I bowed and raised her hand to my lips, in Italian fashion, and then I introduced my two companions. A few moments after I found myself chatting with the pretty Flavia, who, to my annoyance, seemed to be very inquisitive concerning my movements.