is very glad to see you," said an oily voice in French,
but with a thick and rolling pronunciation that was South American
unless it was Roumanian.

For once Lamberti did not notice the sensual, pink and white face, the
hanging lips, the colourless brown hair, the insolent eyes, the
effeminate figure and dress of the little man he detested, and whose
mere touch was disgusting to him. By a strong effort he went directly up
to the Princess without looking again at the young girl whose presence
had affected him so oddly.

Princess Anatolie was gracious enough to give him her hand to kiss; he
bent over it, and his lips touched a few of the cold precious stones in
the rings that loaded her fingers. She had not changed in the year that
had passed since he had seen her, except that her eyes looked smaller
than ever and nearer together. Her hair might or might not be her own,
for it was carefully crimped and arranged upon her forehead; it was not
certain that her excellent teeth were false; there was about her an air
of youth and vitality that was really surprising, and yet it was
impossible not to feel that she might be altogether a marvellous sham,
on the verge of dissolution.

"This is most charming!" she said, in a voice that was not cracked, but
rang false. "I expect my nephew, Guido, at any moment. He is your great
friend, is he not? Yes, I never forget anything. This is my nephew
Guido's great friend," she continued volubly, and turning to the elderly
lady on her right, "Prince Lamberti."

"Don Lamberto Lamberti," said Monsieur Leroy in a low voice, correcting
her. But even this was not quite right.

"I have the good fortune to know the Countess Fortiguerra," said
Lamberti, bowing, as he suddenly recognised her, but very much surprised
that she should be there. "I have just received a very kind invitation
from you," he added, as she gave him her hand.

"I hope you will come," she said quietly. "I knew your mother very well.
We were at the school of the Sacred Heart together."

Lamberti bent his head a little, in acknowledgment of the claim upon him
possessed by one of his mother's school friends.

"I shall do my best to come," he answered.

He felt that the young girl was watching him, and he ventured to look at
her, with a little movement, as if he wished to be introduced. Again he
felt the absolute certainty of having met her before, somewhere, very
long ago--so long ago that she could not have been born the