broke,"
disheartened; "and the Lord knows what I'll do if I'm shunted back into
the hands of the tender hotel managers and porters. There is nothing for
us to do but to clear out, bag and baggage. It's a blamed hard world. I
wish I had kept some of old Pietro's tips." He spoke with full
dejection. Up to this time he had been playing the most enjoyable part
in all his career, plenty to eat and to drink and no worry. And here the
affair was ended with the suddenness of a thunder-clap.

"I'm even worse off than you are, Tom," said Smith. "You've got a
diamond. The sooner we light out the better. In a day or two the
princess will be piling in upon us with her trunks and lackeys and
poodles."

"Poodles!" La Signorina was white with anger.

"Why, yes," said Smith innocently. "Nearly all Italian ladies carry one
or more of those woozy-eyed pups. Good-by to your sparkler, Tom, this
trip, if we ever expect to see the lights of old Broadway again."

O'Mally sighed deeply. The blow had finally fallen.

Then La Signorina rose to her feet. She took the card from Kitty's
fingers, tore it into many pieces and flung them over the wall.

"We have been betrayed!" she cried, a storm in her eyes.

"Betrayed?"

O'Mally looked at Smith; Hillard stared at Merrihew; Kitty regarded La
Signorina with wonder.

"Betrayed? In what manner?" asked Hillard.

"Her Highness has had no hand in this. I know. Some one with malice has
done this petty thing." To La Signorina everything had gone wrong
to-day. "I shall telegraph her Highness at once. I say that we have been
made the victims of some practical joke."

"Joke or not, we can't stay here now," Smith declared. "All the high
muckamucks in and roundabout Florence will be getting out their jewels
and gowns. If we send a denial to the paper, and we really have no
authority to do that, there'll be a whole raft of 'em who will not see
it. And since nobody knows how many invitations have been sent out or to
whom they have been sent--oh, what's the use of all this arguing? The
thing's done. No matter how we figure it, we're all railroaded.
Third-class to Naples and twelve days in the steerage. Whew!"

"I guess Hillard and I can help you," said Merrihew. "We'll see that you
get home all right."

"To be sure," assented Hillard. Poor devils!

"We'll make good, once we strike Broadway," replied O'Mally gratefully.

La Signorina, her arms folded, her lips compressed into a thin line of
scarlet