Wealth alone does not draw in circles of their kind, and Cassandra, still beautiful for her age, recognized the advantages of having Sana at her side. It was the philosophy of a homely woman making it her business to associate with a beautiful and charming girl. She might be left out of the play once in a while--when but one attendant was at hand. But when more than one put in an appearance she had the chances which, otherwise, she would never get. Many a mother with a marriageable daughter plays this role and not unconsciously. One seldom finds the grouchy, business-worn husband on the scene. But regardless of the Princess’ aims, these new associations brought Sana recreation and forgetfulness of the past. It was a daily experience of Sana’s to make new friends. Hers was a beauty and charm that none could resist. And few, if any, made any serious attempt to keep on resisting! At Monte Carlo--that haven of chance, that has seen the birth of so many romances and their death, Sana met Count von Sarnoff, a nephew of the Princess. Von Sarnoff was nothing more or less than a sporting lounge-lizard, ever ready to call the tune but never willing to pay the piper. With him it was a case of love at first sight. Sana, however, was in no mood to respond to his protestations of sincere love. Too bitterly disastrous had been the result of her first love and too fresh her memory of it. Von Sarnoff, however, was not to be put off so easily. He kept continually showering her with messages of his affection, voicing his sentiments in ardent notes, accompanied by exquisite bouquets and rare gifts. He gave, with the moneyed aid of his aunt, the Princess, a series of elaborate entertainments in Sana’s honor. Persistent as he was in his effort to win her love, his determination availed nothing. One evening, as he knelt at her feet, holding her hand, Sana unburdened herself of her true feelings. “As much as I admire you, my dear boy,” she said earnestly, “I could not think of marriage. I want to be free, and after all, I do not care a great deal for this gay life.” He broke in, pleadingly, “But, Sana, we can give up this sort of life and return to my estates in Russia to live a quiet life.” “Live quietly in Russia!” Sana smiled, “you propose the impossible! Are not the Bolshevists after your very skin and did you not flee for your life? Were not your estates taken away? And now you propose to take me to that very place!” “Do not treat the matter lightly, my beloved. Come with me, my queen. My parents will be only too delighted to receive you as their daughter.” “But what would your aunt say of your intentions? I do not think she would approve of them.” “Of course not. She would miss your charming companionship.” “It is better, Sarnoff, that you forget me.” “On account of my aunt?” “No,” Sana said, rather hesitatingly. “Why, then? For what reason? Do you not like me a little bit,” he pleaded, peering at her with anxious eyes.