sily say
you are going with him on his trip, whereas you can really be in
Vienna!"

"That sounds perfect!" he returned gayly; "at least you can accept the
manager's offer!"

"Do you promise to go with me? You must swear it!" He hesitated as he
rapidly turned the situation over in his mind. Now that he had
determined to marry Nina, the main thing was to keep Favorita away, for,
should she have an opportunity to unburden her heart to the heiress,
that would be the end of his matrimonial chances. But if he could get
the dancer to Vienna, and keep her there, then find an excuse for at
least a short absence from her, he could come back to Rome, win Nina, be
married at once--and then let come what would! An independent American
girl would throw him over, he knew that; but a wife would be different!
A wife would have to forgive.

"Will you promise?" repeated Favorita.

"Yes, I promise," he said. "Come, we will fill in the contract!"

CHAPTER XIX

A CHALLENGE, AND AN ANSWER

Nina had intended taking her Italian teacher out with her in the
automobile. She did this quite often, as it was as easy to practice
Italian conversation in a motor-car as anywhere else. But after half an
hour--Favorita was nearly that late--she had given up waiting and
telephoned Zoya Olisco suggesting that they two spend the day at Tivoli.
Zoya agreed, and Nina was on her way to fetch her when she passed
Giovanni and Favorita. But she neither saw the former nor recognized the
latter.

It was after six o'clock when Nina returned from Tivoli, and she had to
hurry to dress for an early dinner, as it was the Sanseveros' regular
Lenten evening at home.

Nina particularly liked these informal receptions, where the company was
composed, for the most part, of really interesting, agreeable people.
There was always music, generally by amateur performers; occasionally
there was some other form of impromptu entertainment, an impersonation
or a recitation. Throughout the evening there was the simplest sort of
buffet supper: tea, bouillon--a claret cup, perhaps, and possibly
chocolate, little cakes, and sandwiches; never more. But the princess
was one of those hostesses whose personality thoroughly pervades a
house; a type which is becoming rare with every change in our modern
civilization, and without which people might as well congregate in a
hotel parlor. Each guest at the Palazzo Sansevero carried away the
impression that not only had he been w