“Most likely,” her brother said. “The police of the Prince of Monaco are elegant blue-and-silver persons who look as though they would hesitate to capture a prisoner for fear of soiling their white kid gloves. But surely, Miss Rosselli,” he added, turning to me, “the Nice police haven’t let the affair drop, have they?” “I cannot say,” I responded; “the last I saw of any of the detectives was a week ago. The man who called upon me then admitted that no clue had so far been obtained.” “Then all I have to say is that it’s a public scandal!” Benjamin Keppel cried angrily. “The authorities here entertain absolutely no regard for the personal safety of their visitors. It appears to me that in Nice year by year prices have increased until hotel charges have become unbearable, and people are being driven over the frontier to Bordighera and San Remo. During these past two years absolutely no regard has been paid by the Nice authorities to the comfort of the visitors who bring them their wherewithal to live!” “The guv’nor’s disgusted,” laughed Gerald across to me. “He’s taken like this sometimes.” “Yes, my boy, I am disgusted. All I want in winter is quiet, sunshine, and good air. That’s what I come here for. And I can get all that at San Remo, for the air is better even than here.” “But it isn’t so fashionable,” I observed. “To an old man like me it does not matter whether a place is fashionable or not, my dear Miss Rosselli,” he said with a serious look. “I leave all that sort of thing to Gerald. He has his clubs, his horses, his fine friends, and all the rest of it. But all the people know Ben Keppel, of Pittsburg. Even if I belonged to the most swagger of the clubs and mixed in good society,--among lords and ladies of the aristocracy, I mean,--I’d still be the same. I couldn’t alter myself as some of ’em try to and do.” We laughed. The old man was so blunt that one could not help admiring him. He had the reputation of being niggardly in certain matters, especially regarding Gerald’s allowance, but, as Ulrica remarked, there were no doubt plenty of people who would be anxious to lend money to the millionaire’s heir upon post-obits, so that after all it didn’t much matter. If inclined to be economical in one or two directions, he certainly kept a remarkably good table, but although there were choice wines for us, he drank only water. When, with Gerald, he joined us in the great drawing-room, he seated himself near me and suddenly said: “I don’t know, Miss Rosselli, whether you would like to remain here and gossip or whether you’d like to stroll round the place. You are a woman, and there may be something to interest you in it.” “I shall be delighted, I’m sure,” I said, and together we went forth to wander about the great mansion which all the world on the Riviera knows as the home of the renowned Steel King.