of his powers, I had no desire to experience a second.
Whether he read what was passing in my mind or not I can not say. At any
rate, he changed the subject abruptly and led me away from my own work
to another at the farther end of the hall. From this we passed into an
anteroom, which, like the hall, was hung with pictures. It was a
magnificent apartment in every way, but, as I soon discovered, was
eclipsed by the larger room into which it opened. The latter could not
have been less than eighty feet long by forty wide. The walls were
decorated with exquisite pictures, and, if such a thing were possible,
with still more exquisite china. All the appointments were in keeping.
At the farther end was a grand piano, and seated near this, slowly
fanning herself with a large ostrich-feather fan, was the woman I had
seen first at the Academy, then at Medenham House, and earlier that very
day in the Piazza S. Ferdinando. Upon our entrance she rose, and once
more I thought I discovered a frightened look in her face. In a second,
however, it had passed and she had once more recovered her equanimity.

"Valerie," said Monsieur Pharos, "I have been fortunate enough to meet
Mr. Forrester, who arrived in Naples last night, and to induce him to
dine with us this evening."

While he was speaking I had been watching the face of the beautiful
woman whose affecting story Lady Medenham had told me, and had noticed
how white it had suddenly become. The reason of this I have since
discovered, but I know that at the time it puzzled me more than a
little.

"I bid you welcome, sir," she said, in excellent English, but with no
great degree of cordiality.

I made some suitable reply, and then Pharos departed from the room,
leaving us together. My companion once more seated herself, and, making
an effort, began a conversation that was doubtless of a very polite, but
to me entirely unsatisfactory, nature. Presently she rose from her chair
and went to the window, where she stood for some moments looking out
into the fast-darkening street. Then she turned to me, as she did so
making a little gesture with her hands that was more expressive than any
words.

"Mr. Forrester," she said, speaking rapidly in a low voice, but with
great earnestness, "have you taken leave of your senses that you come
here? Are you tired of your life that you thrust your head into the
lion's den in this foolish fashion?"

Her words were so startling and her agitation so g