For an instant the girl's bruised brain could not find the Comtesse de Saintville in the index of her memory. Then, suddenly, she saw the woman, playing opposite her at some bridge table. Yes, of course, Lyda Pavoya's friend. "Forgive my calling uninvited. I hope you can see me. I have something to say which may be important to you," the woman, whom Juliet vaguely disliked, had scribbled in French under her name. Juliet thought for a minute, with the card in her hand. It seemed "pushing" of this person to come, and probably if she--Juliet--consented to see her, she would regret the weakness. Still, the one really important thing on earth was news of Pat. Madame de Saintville _might_ know something! She might have quarrelled with Pavoya, and be ready to "give her away." "Bring the lady up here," the Duchess instructed Huji. Presently the visitor was shown in; and Juliet, rising to receive her, towered like a tall young goddess over a small, smart creature, painted to look as pretty as she thought she ought to be. "She'll begin to speak of Pavoya," Juliet thought. But she was mistaken. "I have come on a very queer errand," were the Countess's first words, spoken with much throaty rolling of "rs". "Perhaps you will be angry. I made up my mind only to-day that it was my duty to call." Her eyes darted to the _Inner Circle_ which Juliet had just thrown aside, and quickly returned to a flower with which she herself was playing. But Juliet read that side-glance to mean--"After reading that paper to-day, I decided." "When people tell one it's a duty to say or do something in particular, it's generally disagreeable," Juliet said, drily. "Ah, this is an exception! It is not disagreeable at all--I hope. It is only--unusual," replied the Comtesse de Saintville. "But I will not keep you in suspense. Have you ever heard of a palmist and fortune teller named Madame Veno?" "Possibly. I'm not sure," answered Juliet, surprised.