the chateau he bought to you?"

"Yes," Mary admitted.

"I was wondering if you'd let us live in it for a few days--or a few
weeks."

"I'm going there myself to-night," Mary said impulsively. Then a curious
sensation gripped her, as if she were caught by a wave and swept onward,
in spite of herself, toward something which she feared and even hated.
She wished intensely that Lady Dauntrey had not mentioned the Chateau
Lontana, and that it had been possible to be silent about her own plans.
She had spoken without stopping to think; but even now that she did
think, she could not see how silence would have been easy. It seemed
that unless she were willing to be hard and ungenerous to this unhappy
man and woman she could not avoid offering them shelter for a few days.
Quickly she told herself that she must give them money in addition to
the _viatique_ which Lord Dauntrey would receive in cash to-morrow. If
he still refused to accept anything more from her, Lady Dauntrey would
need no persuasion. Mary was instinctively sure of this. And she thought
that when the husband and wife were in possession of a few hundred
pounds they would be only too glad to leave the gloomy Chateau Lontana
and go to England or somewhere else, to recover themselves.

While she hesitated, feeling compelled to invite the Dauntreys, yet
facing the necessity with almost exaggerated reluctance, Eve saved her
the responsibility of deciding. "Won't you take us with you?" she asked
humbly. "It seems--providential--for us that you're going. So strange,
too, that it should be to-night; and so queer the idea coming into my
head. Just as if it was meant to be!"

Now the matter had passed beyond control, Mary had the impulse to rebel.
The wave had got her and was bearing her along. She tried to catch at
safety.

"But--Lord Dauntrey must stay in Monte Carlo--till to-morrow. And I have
to go to-night," she stammered. "I don't quite see----"

"You're going alone?" Eve asked.

"Yes."

"How queer of the Princess Della Robbia to let you do that!"

"She doesn't know." The girl defended Marie.

"Doesn't know where you're going?"

"No." Mary felt obliged to explain. "I was--vexed at something that
happened to-day. So I--finished my visit sooner than I expected."

"Oh! And does your friend Mrs. Winter approve?"

"She doesn't know, either. She's at Nice for the day, with her husband."

"Surely somebody must know what you're doing. Your own Prince Vanno?"