the hotel,
as Cinderella might have smiled; for this was her first ball. Never had
she been to a dance except those got up among a few young people after
dinner at Lady MacMillan's, years ago when she was only a schoolgirl,
and the convent dances where the pupils had learnt to waltz together,
and one of the dear sisters had played the old piano in the schoolroom.

Mary was wearing a good deal of jewellery, because she loved it, and had
never had any before. Much of her winnings she had given away. Any one
who asked, and made up a pitiful tale, could have something from her.
The latest story going about in connection with her reckless and
unreasoned generosity was of what she had done for a band of strolling
Italian musicians. She had encouraged them to bleat and bawl their
wornout songs in wornout voices, under the windows of the Hotel de
Paris, until it had been politely intimated to her that the shriekings
and tinklings were a nuisance. Mary, who loved and understood good
music, had enjoyed these disastrous efforts no more than others had, but
her heart had been full of pity for the battered little band. She could
not bear to have their feelings hurt; and when at last she had to tell
them that they must sing no more under her window, she gave the leader
and his wife a _mille_ note each to buy new instruments and costumes
for the entire company. The man and woman had been seen bursting into
tears, and pressing garlic kisses on Mary's hands, apparently against
her inclination. Thus the story had got about, with many others of her
eccentric and exaggerated charities. But beyond what she did for all who
were in need, or made her think they were, she had more money than she
knew what to do with for herself; and much of it she had spent with the
jeweller in the Galerie Charles Trois, who was openly her slave.

If he offered her beautiful things at prices which gave him no margin of
profit, she in her ignorance of values did not know that the jewels were
surprisingly cheap. She bought of this man because he was kind, because
he begged her to come to his place, because he seemed to enjoy showing
her lovely ornaments, and knew always, as if by instinct, exactly what
was most suitable and becoming. But gossip said that the jeweller made
presents to the eccentric and beautiful girl whose career at Monte Carlo
was an interesting mystery to every one. Vanno had heard these stories
from Rongier, before he could find presence of mi