at would have been too childish, and I took what
comfort I could from Airole's tiny presence.

A quarter of an hour passed, perhaps, and then the Prince came back
accompanied by a man so huge that the tall Austrian seemed a boy beside
him. They looked at the car, communicating by gestures, and then the
Prince said, if we would walk to the house the woman there would receive
us, while he and his companion pushed the automobile into a shed which
the man had.

I made no further attempt to extract a relenting word from Aunt Kathryn,
as we tramped side by side along the road. Reaching a two-storied stone
box of a house, she dropped behind at the doorway, leaving me to
confront a hard-faced woman in a white jacket, with a graceful
head-dress half-hiding her black hair. In one hand she had a partly
finished stocking with knitting-needles in it; in the other she held a
candle in a quaintly made iron candlestick. Something she said to us in
a strange, but rather soft-sounding language, of which I couldn't
understand one syllable; but seeing my hopelessly blank expression she
smiled, nodded, and motioned us to cross the threshold.

The room was bare, with a floor of pounded earth. There was a wooden
table in it, a few shelves, and a long bench; but beyond was a more
attractive interior, for in an inner apartment she had lighted a fire of
sticks on a rude hearth.

I stood aside to let Aunt Kathryn pass in before me, which she did
without a word. We both stood before the fire, holding out gloved hands
to the meagre blaze, while little Airole ran about, whimpering and
examining everything with unconcealed disapproval.

I had just time to notice how oddly shabby Aunt Kathryn's gloves were,
and to wonder if she didn't intend to take off the "mushroom" (the talc
window of which the firelight transformed into a pane of red glass),
when Prince Dalmar-Kalm appeared. Without asking permission he walked
in, and looking at Aunt Kathryn, said in French, "You may go,
Victorine."

I stared, as bewildered as if the unfamiliar scene were turning to a
dream; but as the cloaked and mushroomed figure reached the door, the
spell broke.

I took a step after it, exclaiming, "Aunt Kathryn--Kittie!"

The door shut almost in my face. "That is not your Aunt Kathryn," said
the Prince, in a voice which, though low, vibrated with excitement. "It
is one of the Contessa Corramini's servants, chosen to play this part
because her figure is enough like y