t
better,' she instantly resumed, 'by what fools call Chance.' Francis
answered easily, out of the depths of his strong common sense. 'Chance
seems to be taking a queer way of bringing the meeting about,' he said.
'We have all arranged to meet at the Palace Hotel. How is it that your
name is not on the Visitors' List? Destiny ought to have brought you
to the Palace Hotel too.'

She abruptly pulled down her veil. 'Destiny may do that yet!' she
said. 'The Palace Hotel?' she repeated, speaking once more to herself.
'The old hell, transformed into the new purgatory. The place itself!
Jesu Maria! the place itself!' She paused and laid her hand on her
companion's arm. 'Perhaps Miss Lockwood is not going there with the
rest of you?' she burst out with sudden eagerness. 'Are you positively
sure she will be at the hotel?'

'Positively! Haven't I told you that Miss Lockwood travels with Lord
and Lady Montbarry? and don't you know that she is a member of the
family? You will have to move, Countess, to our hotel.'

She was perfectly impenetrable to the bantering tone in which he spoke.
'Yes,' she said faintly, 'I shall have to move to your hotel.' Her hand
was still on his arm--he could feel her shivering from head to foot
while she spoke. Heartily as he disliked and distrusted her, the
common instinct of humanity obliged him to ask if she felt cold.

'Yes,' she said. 'Cold and faint.'

'Cold and faint, Countess, on such a night as this?'

'The night has nothing to do with it, Mr. Westwick. How do you suppose
the criminal feels on the scaffold, while the hangman is putting the
rope around his neck? Cold and faint, too, I should think. Excuse my
grim fancy. You see, Destiny has got the rope round my neck--and I
feel it.'

She looked about her. They were at that moment close to the famous
cafe known as 'Florian's.' 'Take me in there,' she said; 'I must have
something to revive me. You had better not hesitate. You are
interested in reviving me. I have not said what I wanted to say to you
yet. It's business, and it's connected with your theatre.'

Wondering inwardly what she could possibly want with his theatre,
Francis reluctantly yielded to the necessities of the situation, and
took her into the cafe. He found a quiet corner in which they could
take their places without attracting notice. 'What will you have?' he
inquired resignedly. She gave her own orders to the waiter, without
troubling him to speak for her.

'Maraschi