rming couple!"

"Dancing, yes," snapped the duchess, "but for my taste they dance too
fast!"

"She is doubtless thinking of her tub of a son, who moves with about the
grace of an elephant," whispered the Princess Malio behind her fan.

"I can imagine nothing more graceful than the picture they make at this
moment," the marchesa answered, wistfully regarding the two slim figures
whirling down the length of the room, dancing, dancing on! as though it
were the first, and not the tenth, time they had traversed the great
gallery; the elastic poise of each the same, the gold-colored gauze of
Nina's dress exactly matching the rippling waves of glorious hair only a
shade below the sleek black head of her partner.

Yet the marchesa was perhaps no more anxious than either of the others
to have Giovanni bear off the American prize. "My Cesare does not return
from England for another month," she added only half audibly, and then
she sighed.

Suddenly the old princess pounced like a lean cat upon a new thought.
"Ah, ha! There is some trouble brewing! Maria Potensi has found your
picture of dancing grace a bit too charming. Di Valdo is biting his
mustache, and she is giving herself away! I always thought the wind sat
in that quarter. Now--she is losing her temper--and with it her
discretion!"

"Maria Potensi is above suspicion," interrupted the marchesa. "I do not
believe there is a word of truth in what you imply."

"But how do you account for her jewels? I am interested to hear. There
were none in the Potensi family, nor in her own!"

"She says quite frankly that they were given her by an old Russian who
is her god-father."

"Every one knows," rejoined the princess, "that di Valdo has made heavy
debts, yet he is not a gambler like his brother Sansevero, and he has no
personal extravagances that account for the sums borrowed."

The "collaress" answered nothing, and the fat duchess, who had so far
been only a listener, drew her head in like a snapping turtle as she
made the satisfactory observation that her "Todo" was now the partner of
the heiress.

The Duke Scorpa and Nina, standing for the commencement of a quadrille,
suggested rather a brigand and a princess than a duke and a titleless
daughter of the democracy. Nina was holding her head very high, yet
easily and unconsciously, because it was her natural way of standing.
The dancing had brought color to her cheeks, and her eyes were
sparkling; but it was at the even