was here talking a moment ago."

"Ah, was he a prince?"

"Yes."

"As he talked about nothing but hotels, I took him to be the proprietor
of one."

Mlle. Cadet told Mme. Dawson what Caesar had said, and she and her
daughters were amused at his error.

X. A BALL

A little later than the real day, they got up a ball at the hotel in
celebration of the French holiday Micareme.

When Caesar was asked if he thought of going to the ball, he said no;
but Mlle. de Sandoval warned him that if he didn't go she would never
speak to him again, and Mme. Dawson and the governess threatened him
with like excommunication.

"But you know, these balls are very amusing," said Mme. Dawson.

"Do you think so?"

"I do, and so do you."

"Besides, an observer like you," added Mlle. Cadet, "can devote himself
to taking notes."

"And why do you conclude that I am an observer?" asked Caesar.

"The idea! Because it is evident."

"And an observer with very evil intentions," insisted Mlle. de Sandoval.

"You credit me with qualities I haven't got."

Caesar had to accede, and the Dawson ladies and he were the first to
enter the salon and take their seats. In one corner was a glass vase
hung from the ceiling by a pulley.

"What is that?" Mme. Dawson asked a servant.

"It is a glass vase full of bonbons, which you have to break with a pole
with your eyes closed."

"Ah, yes."

Since nobody else came in, the Dawson girls and Caesar wandered about
looking into the cupboards and finding the Marchesa Sciacca's music and
the Neapolitan's. They looked out one of the salon windows. It was a
detestable night, raining and hailing; the great drops were bouncing on
the sidewalks of the Piazza Esedra. Water and hail fell mixed together,
and for moments at a time the ground would stay white, as if covered
with a thin coating of pearls.

The fountain in the centre cast up its streams of water, which mingled
with the rain, and the central jet shone in the lays of the arc-lights;
now and again the livid brilliance of lightning illuminated the stone
arches and the rumbling of thunder was heard...

Still nobody else came to the salon. Doubtless the ladies were preparing
their toilets very carefully.

The first to appear, dressed for the ball, were the Marchesa Sciacca and
her husband, accompanied by the inevitable Carminatti.

The Marchesa, with her habitual brutality toward everybody that lived in
the house, bowed with formal cool