thing else to do
but learn to turn beautiful phrases. I don't think that I am flattering
myself in saying that if I were to give up my life to the one
accomplishment of artistic love-making, I might make good, too! However,
that is pretty far out of my line. I'm a blunt sort of person, but
I--well, I care a lot for you, Nina! I'd rather see you marry--Billy
Dalton, any day!"

As Derby brought in Billy Dalton's name, Nina had a sense of flatness
that she would have been at a loss to explain.

"Jack!" she cried suddenly, her surface vanity piqued, but before even
the sentence which crowded back of her exclamation could frame itself,
Giovanni's image flashed before her mind and pushed out every other
impression. She seemed to see him racked with suffering, and all for
her! She hated her own vacillation. She despised herself for a fickle
flirt. What else was she? Here she was imagining all sorts of vague
heartaches that were utterly unworthy of her loyalty either to
Giovanni's love or to Jack's friendship. Jack was her best friend,
almost her brother, and she had no right to feel so limp because--she
did not finish the sentence even to herself; yet she was swept into such
a turmoil of emotion--friendship, love, pique, doubt--that she could
restore nothing to order. She knew Derby thought Giovanni wanted her
money--instinctively her mouth hardened as she thought of it--but
then--every one wanted it except Jack! And at once, with an
unaccountable baffling ache, she was brought face to face with the fact
that Jack, as it happened, did not want her at all!

Then, hating herself because she had for a moment thought of Jack as a
possible suitor, and more especially because of the detestable and
unworthy chagrin that his not being a suitor had caused her, she became
hysterically erratic, aloof, and impossible, and began suddenly to talk
like a paid guide about the sculptures at the Vatican! At the end of
some minutes, during which Derby failed to get anything in the way of a
natural remark from her, he arose to go. He left with a strong desire to
send a doctor and a trained nurse to take Nina in hand.

Down at the entrance of the palace a very pretty woman was speaking with
the porter. She was talking vehemently and with much accompanying
gesticulation. As Derby passed out, she looked up into his face. He put
his hand to his hat, in a vague remembrance of her features, wondering
where he had met her, and what her name might be