find you at all amiable," the contessa pouted. "I am
serious--very serious, and you make fun."

"Not at all. I am very serious, and you talk of fairy tales. Still, if
you are my fairy godmother, there is no knowing what stroke of fortune
may await me in Sicily." Then, changing his tone, he said earnestly: "I
am really sorry, but I am afraid I shall have to leave the picture
question until I come back."

"You are going straight off to Sicily?"

"Yes."

"To be gone how long?"

"I don't know; I have no idea. Weeks, perhaps. Months, very likely; why
do you ask?"

"May I say something--something very frank to you?" Zoya leaned forward
with a sudden direct impulse.

"Say what you please, by all means!" Derby braced himself for her
remark, but even so he colored as she said: "Are you in love with Nina?
Please, don't be angry; I don't ask you to answer. But if you are, I
can't see why you go away to work mines and such things. I should have
married her long ago had I been you."

Derby's eyes blazed. "Do you mean I should try to marry her and live on
her money?"

"Why not? Since she has enough for two--enough for twenty! There is no
need to be so furious. _Per l'amore di Dio!_ You Americans have always
the ears up, listening for a sound that you can fly at!" Languorously
she leaned back among the cushions of the sofa. "It is all so
silly--your idea of life." And then she stopped and looked at him
curiously. "What _is_ your idea of life?"

"Life? One might put it in three words: One must work!"

Zoya shook her head--she did it charmingly. "No, no," she said softly;
"you are altogether wrong--though I also can put it in three words.
Life lies in this: One must love. That's all there is!"

The conversation ended there, for the Duke Scorpa and Count Masco came
up to speak to the contessa. Derby arose and was about to leave when the
duke stopped him. Masco sat down to talk with Zoya, and Scorpa spoke to
Derby in an undertone. "I hear you are going to Sicily to-morrow?"

"Yes, I leave early in the morning."

"Take my advice"--his glance was sinister--"and stay away."

Derby smiled frankly. "May I ask why?"

"Because your process will not work."

"That might be taken in two ways," Derby rejoined: "either that you
believe my patents useless, or else that some means will be taken to
prevent my trying them. I rather wonder--after our conversation on the
subject--if you intend a threat?" He spoke without stress of fee