id about
being a friend of the family.

The mere suggestion of a delicate and exotic perfume had floated into
the house with her. At first it faintly recalled Indian river grass,
but presently Ugo thought it reminded him of muscatel grapes, and then
again of dried rose leaves and violets. She smiled as she withdrew her
hand, and spoke.

'You did not guess that a woman could be so persistent, did you?'

Ugo also smiled, but without cordiality, and then led the way
upstairs. On reaching the large room, the Princess looked about her,
judged the man, and at once expressed her admiration for his good
sense in leading a student's life, instead of squandering his time in
the futilities of society.

The Captain did not ask her what she wanted of him, but offered to
make tea for her, and she saw that a little table had been set for the
purpose. Everything was very simple, but looked so serviceable that
she accepted, judging that she ran no risk of being poisoned. In Italy
it is only society that drinks tea. It was a little early for it, but
that did not matter. The water was boiling in a small copper kettle
shaped like a flat sponge-cake, the tea-caddy was Japanese, and the
teapot was of plain brown earthenware, but the two cups were of rare
old Capodimonte and the spoons were evidently English. She noticed
also that the sugar was of the 'crystallised' kind, and was in a
curiously chiselled silver bowl. The Princess had a good eye for
details.

'You seem to have made yourself very comfortable in your remote little
house,' she laughed, with approval.

'I only hope that you may be, as long as you please to stay,' he
answered, making the tea scientifically.

It was very good, and she chatted idly while she slowly drank it and
nibbled a thin, crisp biscuit. When she had finished he took her cup
and offered to refill it, but she declined and leaned back comfortably
in the big red leather easy-chair.

'I daresay you heard that story about an officer who is reported to be
living in slavery in Africa?' she said, her tone changing and becoming
very grave.

Ugo had read of it in the newspapers.

'Did it occur to you, as it did to me, that he might be Giovanni?' she
asked.

It had occurred to him and he had made inquiries at the War Office,
but had been told that the story had no foundation. He had expected no
other answer. The Princess was silent for a moment.

'One grasps at straws,' she said presently, in a low voice.