ed Sibyl--that is what you are, darling!" the
Princess returned. "I wish I could ever know what has so utterly changed
you from our convent days," and she sighed impatiently. "Then you were
the merriest madcap, ready to tease any one and to have any lark, and
for nearly these four years since we have been together again you have
been another person--grave and self-possessed. What are you always
thinking of, Sabine?"

They had reached their sitting-room, and Mrs. Howard went to the window
and opened it wide.

"I grew up in one year, Moravia--I grew a hundred years old, and all the
studies which I indulge in at Heronac teach me that peace and poise are
the things to aim at. I cannot tell you any more."

"I did not mean to probe into your secrets, darling," the Princess
exclaimed hastily. "I promised you I never would when you came to me
that November in Rome--we were both miserable enough, goodness knows! We
made the bargain that there should be no retrospects. And your angelic
goodness to me all that time when my little Girolamo was born, have made
me your eternal debtor. Why, but for you, darling, he might have been
snatched from me by the hateful Torniloni family!"

"The sweet cherub!"

Then their conversation turned to this absorbing topic, the perfections
of Girolamo! and as it is hardly one which could interest you or me, my
friend, let us go back to the smoking-room and listen to a conversation
going on between Cranley Beaton and Lord Fordyce. The latter, with great
skill, had begun to elicit certain information he desired from this
society register!

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Beaton was saying. "She is a peach--The husband"--and
he looked extremely wise. "Oh! she made some frightful mesalliance out
West, and they say he's shut in a madhouse or home for inebriates. Her
entrance among us dates from when she first appeared in Paris, about
three years ago, with Princess Torniloni. She is awfully rich and
awfully good, and it is a real pity she does not divorce the ruffian and
begin again!"

"She is not free, then?" and Lord Fordyce felt his heart sink. "I
thought, probably, she had got rid of any encumbrance, as it is fairly
easy over with you."

"Why, she could in a moment if she wanted to, I expect," Mr. Beaton
assured his listener. "She hasn't fancied anyone else yet; when she
does, she will, no doubt."

"Her husband is an American, then?"

"Why, of course--didn't I tell you she came from the West? Why, I
re