“And my aunt, Lady John Valerian, who is most interested in Spiritualism, would consider it such an inestimable favour, if you would let her accompany me, next time I have the pleasure of visiting you! They would be as silent as myself concerning our visits here, I can assure you, and I am certain you would like them both--my daughter especially, who is a most amiable young woman.” Hannah considered for a moment what she should reply. Here was the very thing which she had longed and striven for, dropping like a ripe plum into her mouth. A Countess--a Duchess--and the wife of a Lord! She must secure the lot, but not for séances in her private room--for exhibition at her public parties! “You are asking a great deal, Lady Loreley,” she replied, with a pursed-up mouth, as though she were considering the possibility of granting her request. “If it depended on myself, I should only be too pleased to accede to your wishes, but, as I have already told you, my husband would not approve of my sitting with ladies of whom I know, as yet, so little.” “O! but you must know more of us, dear Marchesa,” cried Lady Loreley. “You must come to my house and let me introduce you to my daughter and my aunt! What day are you at liberty to dine with us? Would next Thursday suit you? I have no engagement for that day! Then if you and the Baron will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner, I will have the Duchess and Lady John to meet you!” “I believe we are at liberty for Thursday,” replied Hannah, with her air of _grande dame_, “but remember! Lady Loreley, the motive of your visit must be kept a dead secret, if you ever wish to see it renewed.” “You may depend on my discretion, Marchesa!” replied the Countess, as she grasped her hand; “I can never, never thank you sufficiently for what you have done for me to-day, and I hope we shall be the most excellent friends in the future!” So Lady Loreley took her leave, and that was the beginning of the Marchesa di Sorrento counting dukes and duchesses amongst her visiting acquaintances. Secretly, but surely, the news flew amongst the aristocratic crowd, that this mysterious Marchesa, the nationality of whom no one could determine, was the most wonderful woman on the face of the earth, and many were the little private séances held by her in her boudoir, unknown to all but the favoured few, whom she admitted there. As time went on and one lady asked to be allowed to bring her brother, and another entreated that her husband might be initiated into the occult mysteries of the Marchesa’s boudoir, gentlemen began to mingle with the lady sitters, and the séances became more general and more renowned.