escaped him.

"Great heavens! 'The Count von Hern'--Bernadine!"

"Just so," Sogrange assented. "Nice, clear writing, isn't it?"

Peter sat bolt upright in his chair.

"Do you mean to say that Bernadine is on board?"

Sogrange shook his head.

"By the exercise, my dear Baron," he said, "of a superlative amount of
ingenuity, I was able to prevent that misfortune. Now lean over and read
the label on the next chair."

Peter obeyed. His manner had acquired a new briskness.

"'La Duchesse della Nermino,'" he announced.

Sogrange nodded.

"Everything just as it should be," he declared. "Change those labels, my
friend, as quickly as you can."

Peter's fingers were nimble, and the thing was done in a few seconds.

"So I am to sit next the Spanish lady," he remarked, feeling for his
tie.

"Not only that, but you are to make friends with her," Sogrange replied.
"You are to be your captivating self, Baron. The Duchesse is to forget
her weakness for hot rooms. She is to develop a taste for sea air and
your society."

"Is she," Peter asked anxiously, "old or young?"

Sogrange showed a disposition to fence with the question.

"Not old," he answered; "certainly not old. Fifteen years ago she was
considered to be one of the most beautiful women in the world."

"The ladies of Spain," Peter remarked, with a sigh, "are inclined to
mature early."

"In some cases," Sogrange assured him, "there are no women in the world
who preserve their good looks longer. You shall judge, my friend. Madame
comes! How about that sea-sickness now?"

"Gone," Peter declared briskly. "Absolutely a fancy of mine. Never felt
better in my life."

An imposing little procession approached along the deck. There was the
deck steward leading the way; a very smart French maid carrying a
wonderful collection of wraps, cushions, and books; a black-browed,
pallid man-servant, holding a hot-water bottle in his hand and leading a
tiny Pekinese spaniel wrapped in a sealskin coat; and finally Madame la
Duchesse. It was so obviously a procession intended to impress, that
neither Peter nor Sogrange thought it worth while to conceal their
interest.

The Duchesse, save that she was tall and wrapped in magnificent furs,
presented a somewhat mysterious appearance. Her features were entirely
obscured by an unusually thick veil of black lace, and the voluminous
nature of her outer garments only permitted a suspicion as to her
figure, which was, at that time,