e, and hurriedly mingled with
the crowd on the floor.

"The little cat!" exploded Mrs. Gannette, when she again found
herself. "She has mortally insulted me!"

Carmen went directly to the pale woman, still sitting alone, who had
been one of the objects of Mrs. Gannette's slighting remarks. The
woman glanced up as she saw the girl approaching, and a look of wonder
came into her eyes. Carmen held out a hand.

"I am Carmen Ariza," she said simply. "You are Miss Wall. I want you
to be my friend."

The woman roused up and tried to appear composed.

"Will you ride with me to-morrow?" continued Carmen. "Then we can talk
all we want to, with nobody to overhear. Aren't you happy?" she
abruptly added, unable longer to withstand the appeal which issued
mutely from the lusterless eyes before her.

The woman smiled wanly. "Not so very," she replied slowly.

"Well!" exclaimed Carmen; "what's wrong?"

"I am poverty-stricken," returned the woman sadly.

"But I will give you money," Carmen quickly replied.

"My dear child," said the woman, "I haven't anything but money. That
is why I am poverty-stricken."

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, sinking into a chair at her side. "Well,"
she added, brightening, "now you have me! And will you call me up,
first thing in the morning, and arrange to ride with me? I want you
to, so much!"

The woman's eyes grew moist. "Yes," she murmured, "I will--gladly."

In the small hours of the morning there were several heads tossing in
stubborn wakefulness on their pillows in various New York mansions.
But Carmen's was not one of them.

CHAPTER 17

On the morning following Mrs. Hawley-Crowles's very successful
imitation of the _Bal de l'Opera_, Monsignor Lafelle paid an early
call to the Ames _sanctum_. And the latter gentleman deemed the visit
of sufficient importance to devote a full hour to his caller. When the
churchman rose to take his leave he reiterated:

"Our friend Wenceslas will undertake the matter for you, Mr. Ames, but
on the conditions which I have named. But Rome must be communicated
with, and the substance of her replies must be sent from Cartagena to
you, and your letters forwarded to her. That might take us into early
summer. But there is no likelihood that Mr. Ketchim's engineers will
make any further attempt before that time to enter Colombia. Mr. Reed
in still in California. Mr. Harris is in Denver, at his old home, you
tell me. So we need look for no immediate move