It was a delightful dinner, well thought out between the host and head-waiter, but no one wished to linger over it. Never had "bridge fiends" been so eager to "get to work" as these people were to take their turn with the Countess and her crystal. At Lady Annesley-Seton's suggestion they drew lots for these turns, and Constance herself drew the first chance. She and the gleaming figure of the Countess went out together, and ten or twelve minutes later she returned alone. Everyone stared eagerly to see if she looked excited, and it took no stretch of imagination to find her face flushed and her eyes dilated. "Well? Has she told you anything wonderful?" A clamour of voices joined in the question. "Yes, she has," replied Constance. "She's simply _uncanny_! She could pick up a fortune in London in one season, if she were a professional. She has told me in what sort of place the heirlooms are now, but that we shall never see them again." So saying, Lady Annesley-Seton plumped down on a sofa beside her hostess, as the next person hurried off to plunge into the mysteries. "I feel quite weak in the knees," Constance whispered to Annesley. "Has she told you anything?" "No," said the girl "I don't--want to know things." She might have added: "Things told by _her_." But she did not say this. Constance shivered. "The woman frightened me with what she _knew_. I mean, not about our robbery--that's a trifle--but about the past. That crystal of hers seems to be--a sort of _Town Topics_. But I must say she didn't foretell any horrors for the future--not for me personally. If she goes on as she's begun she can do what she likes with us all. Dear little Anne, you must ask her often to your house when you're 'finding your feet'--and I'm helping you--in London. I prophesy that she'll prove an attraction. Why, it would pay to have a room fitted up for her in purple and black, with relays of fresh lilies." Annesley smiled. But she made up her mind that, if a room _were_ done in purple and black with relays of lilies anywhere for the Countess de Santiago, it would not be in her house. Unless, of course, Knight begged it of her as a favour. And even then--but somehow she didn't believe, despite certain appearances, that Knight was anxious to have his old friend near him. He had the air of one who was paying a debt; and she remembered how he had said, on the day of their wedding: "We will find a time to pay back the favours they've done us." This visit and dinner and introduction to society was perhaps his way of paying the Countess. Only--was it payment in full, or an instalment? Annesley wondered. Vaguely she wondered also what had become of Dr. Torrance and the Marchese di Morello. Would the next payment be for them, and what form would it take? She was far from guessing.