ing him on the shoulder and looking up at him admiringly.
"The half-gods go when the gods arrive. And you have everything in your
favor. You are so great a man and such a charming fellow, Dermott!"

* * * * *

On the following day Katrine came alone to see Madame de Nemours,
Dermott having concluded wisely that his presence would be but a
drawback to any quick acquaintance between the two.

"I am Katrine," the girl answered, in response to the Countess' query.
"Mr. McDermott has been so kind as to send me to you."

"It came about in this way," the Countess explained, drawing Katrine to
a couch and still keeping her hand. "There was a time when I knew
Dermott, my cousin, very well. That was in Ireland, before he became the
great man he now is. Since that time we have written to each other
always, for he has been kind enough to give me his friendship. He came
yesterday. I was sad, and told him of my lonesomeness. It is best, is it
not, to be quite frank when two people are meeting as you and I are
doing? In spite of all this," and here she made a slight gesture to
include her luxurious surroundings, "I am quite a poor woman. And so
when I told Dermott that I was lonesome in this great house, with none
but servants, no companions, he spoke to me of you. He was quite
practical. He said that you spent much money as you were living. He told
me of your great beauty and your greater voice. I became very much
interested in you, and we arranged for this talk. Now that I have seen
you, I want you to come and live with me very much, _very_ much." She
was so charming in her kindness, this great lady! "But you may not
desire it. The situation is awkward for me." She smiled here, and a
humorous light danced in her eyes, for with all her graciousness she was
quite certain of her charm. "And so we will leave you to think it over
and tell Mr. McDermott, who will in turn tell the decision to me. That
will save my vanity from being hurt openly in case you do not come."

Impulsively, Katrine clasped both the Countess' hands in hers.

"I want to come very much," she said. "There was never any one with whom
I would rather be. I know now that you are the lady of whom Monsieur
Josef spoke to me once. 'Ach!' he said, you know his way, 'she is the
greatest lady in the world! It is not what she _does_, but what she _is_
so beautifully.'"

As Katrine spoke with the earnestness of voice and manner always her
own