ely at
liberty before tiffin; therefore Fuchsia had all the forenoon to
herself, and spent the time visiting her girl friends or shopping in
the bazaar. The heiress had hired a motor, a little two-seater that
she could drive, and with respect to locomotion was entirely
independent of her hostess. No one in Fuchsia's circle received so
many visits as Sophy Leigh; she was fond of Sophy, and frequently
turned up at "Heidelberg" to tiffin or to tea, although she did not
care about the set of people that she met there--stout German ladies
with somewhat aggressive manners, or second-rate women from the fringe
of Society. Everyone of these was, in the eyes of the little American
democrat, an "Outsider." Fuchsia was fastidious, an aristocrat to her
finger-tips, and it was no drawback to Pat FitzGerald that his maternal
uncle was an earl.

"How could Sophy tolerate these stupid people," Fuchsia asked herself,
"with their sharp, probing questions and heavy jokes? Why did Mrs.
Krauss invite them?"

And here she came to yet another question: What was the matter with
Mrs. Krauss? There was something strange and mysterious about her
ailment; her attacks were so fitful; now she appeared brilliant and
vivacious, with gleams of her former great beauty, the gracious and
agreeable hostess; again, her condition was that of sheer indifference
and semi-torpor. And who was the officious and familiar ayah, her
attendant and shadow, an obtrusive creature with bold black eyes and a
resolute mouth? Why did she speak so authoritatively to her mistress?
Why did she wear such handsome jewellery and expensive silk saris,
heavily fringed with gold, and strut about with such an air of
importance?

Lily appeared to have enormous influence with Mrs. Krauss--she knew
something! She held some secret. This was the conclusion at which
Fuchsia the shrewd arrived, after she had paid a good many visits to
"Heidelberg."

Fuchsia, with her long chin resting on her hand, set her active brain
and cool judgment to work. She recalled a certain scene one evening
when she had driven over in her car to take Sophy to the theatre, and
was sitting in the veranda half hidden by a screen, awaiting her
friend, whilst Mrs. Krauss, lying prone upon the sofa, fanned herself
with a languid hand. Presently, from a doorway, Lily noiselessly
drifted in. She was amazingly light-footed for her bulk.

"Now, it is nine o'clock," she said, addressing her mistress, "an