“Rather suggestive of your friends of the Villa Bougainvillea,” chuckled Nicholson, coughing as he spoke. “This thing ought to be prosecuted,” said Usk wrathfully. “Or who edits it, do you know?” “How can I tell? But you can’t horsewhip a man for telling the truth.” “It’s not true! Why----” Usk was happy again--“if they went, they were to go in mauve dominos. She--one of them--showed me the stuff.” “Of course she did! And what was to be under the dominos? They were only for driving. It was when your friends left their carriage that they would come out as full-blown Pierrettes.” “It’s not true,” repeated Usk, doggedly but hopelessly. “There’s the book you wanted. Good-night.” Once more his mind was made up to force an explanation with Félicia. He had not been near the Villa Bougainvillea since receiving Mrs van Zyl’s note on the day of the Carnival, for he had determined that Félicia owed him an apology, and that he would not move without it. Now, however, he felt he could rest no longer under this uncertainty. If Félicia had the smallest regard for him or his wishes, she would not have taken part in the Carnival at all; and if she had no regard for him, what prospect was there of their living happily together? It was with these thoughts in his mind that he made his way to the villa the next morning, as early as he thought Félicia would be likely to be up. To his astonishment he was ushered into the _salon_, where Mrs van Zyl greeted him with a severe expression of countenance. “I don’t know whether Félicia will receive you,” she said coldly, when he had explained that he came to see Miss Steinherz, “but I will send and ask her, any way.” An awkward pause ensued, during which Usk endeavoured vainly to make conversation, wondering the while what was the reason for this treatment, and Mrs van Zyl eyed him as if he had been a convicted criminal. Presently, however, she was summoned to the door, and a whispered colloquy followed, which appeared to have a satisfactory result, for she went out, and Félicia entered the room. She seemed the embodiment of injured rectitude as she halted opposite Usk, and looked him over sternly. “I guess you’re come to apologise,” she said at last. “Nothing of the sort. I want an apology from you,” broke out Usk. “Do tell! You’re the person to ask for apologies, aren’t you?” “Exactly, and I mean to have one.” “Am I to apologise because you broke your appointment, and haven’t been around for two whole days?” “Considering that you broke the appointment through Mrs van Zyl, and went to the Carnival, which you had promised you wouldn’t do, I scarcely thought you would care to see me.” “And if I told you that Sadie wrote you just to test you, and that I was waiting for you here all of Tuesday afternoon, what then?” “I should ask who the two American ladies were from this house who were at the Carnival with King Michael.”