ing in general, not at the man who at
that moment was trying to please her. She could not bear the duke's
sharp little black eyes, his brutal square jaw, his unctuous manners;
and as he took her hand to lead her down a figure of the quadrille, its
thickness felt to her imagination like a paw.

Dancing vis-a-vis were Giovanni and the Contessa Potensi. Nina did not
know her name or anything about her, but she felt at first sight a
subtle antagonism, and, following an instinct that she would have found
difficult to account for, she turned her attention away toward a second
personality, which fascinated her in as great a degree as that of the
Potensi had repelled.

"Who is that over there?" she asked of the duke. "I mean the slender
girl in black."

"The Contessa Olisco. She was a Russian princess. Her name was Zoya
Kromitskoff. I thought the name of Zoya pretty once--that is, until I
heard the name of N-i-n-a!"

As he said her name they were just turning around the last figure, and
she might not, without attracting attention, snatch her hand from his;
but his familiarity in using her Christian name made her cheeks burn. In
the final courtesy she barely inclined her head, and at the close of the
dance went in quest of her aunt without noticing his proffered arm. At
this unheard-of behavior, the duke hurried after her, biting his
mustache.

"Ah, ha!" ejaculated the old princess in the ear of the Marchesa
Valdeste, "that cuttlefish of a Scorpa has thrown his tentacles out too
far, and the goldfish is scurrying away in alarm." She fanned herself in
agitated satisfaction at her triumph over the duchess--who was
pretending that she had noticed no coolness in the American's treatment
of her son.

The next moment the Princess Sansevero brought Nina to present her to
the marchesa. Nina had been dancing at the time of the arrival of the
"collaress" and must therefore be presented at the first opportunity.
The marchesa, with a few kindly remarks about her dancing, would have
let her return to her partners, but the duchess moved ponderously aside
on the sofa, making a place for Nina. Without prelude she began, "Is it
true that you have five hundred thousand dollars a year? Or is rumor
mistaken--is it only five hundred thousand _lire_?"

The baldness of the question left Nina for the moment speechless; then
presently, "I have what father gives me," she answered evasively.

"But you are the only child of the American multimill