sitor! Let's waive ceremony, and storm Lady Frances Hope in
her citadel! She is always at home at this hour of night."

Clodagh looked up.

"To-night?" she said. "Oh, but how could I? I don't know her!"

Serracauld laughed.

"Oh, as for that, we're abroad, not in England! The greatest stickler
for etiquette allows that there's a difference in the two conditions."

"But I couldn't. How could I?" Her eyes sought Barnard's.

"Oh yes!" he cried. "I knew it!--I knew it! We have frightened you
off!"

She flushed uncomfortably.

"It isn't that!" she cried in distress. "You know it isn't that!"
Involuntarily she turned to Lord Deerehurst; but in the dim light she
detected a smile on his pale, cold face.

With a sudden change of emotion, self-reliance came to her.

"Where does Lady Frances Hope live?" she asked in a careless voice.

Barnard was studying her intently.

"She has apartments in the Palazzo Ugochini," he said. "Quite close at
hand."

For a moment Clodagh looked fixedly in front of her; then her lips
closed suddenly, and she raised her head.

"Very well!" she said shortly. "Take me to the Palazzo Ugochini--just
to prove that you were wrong."

CHAPTER V

The decision was no sooner made, than it was carried into execution.
The order was given to the gondoliers, and instantly the long dark
gondola swung round, disengaging itself from the tangle of surrounding
craft, and headed for the quieter spaces of the middle stream.

The Palazzo Ugochini was on the Grand Canal; and as they glided
westward, past the beautiful church of Santa Maria della Salute,
Barnard leant forward and directed her attention to their destination.

"There is the Palace of the Ugochini," he said. "It contains some of
the finest frescoes in Italy. It was bought up some years ago by an
enterprising Frenchman who lets it out in sections. Just now Lady
Frances Hope is the proud occupier of the first floor."

With a movement of interest, she followed his glance looking silently
at the long line of irregular, imposing buildings that stretched away
before her.

"What a beautiful old place!" she said. "Are those your friend's
windows?"

She indicated the first floor of the palace, from the open windows of
which a warm stream of light poured downwards upon the water.

"Yes. I expect they're playing bridge up there. Frances is an
enthusiast. By the way, do you gamble, Mrs. Milbanke?"

Involuntarily Clodagh started and looke