r
any one suspects. Must have been an accident. Key worked well. I saw
cabin. It is ready for a passenger. I would wager that that passenger is
Madeleine Dalahaide. Probably we shall not have a word together in
private now before we go, but will write you from every port, or wire if
necessary and possible.--K. G."

This note she took down to the dining-room with her, and barely had a
chance to press it into Loria's palm as he bade her, with the others, a
rather formal farewell.

The Marchese was not one of those who went out to the yacht to see the
last of the beautiful American girl and her party. Virginia had
definitely refused him now, and the old, pleasant intimacy had been
brought to a sudden end. Nevertheless, he sent her flowers--a great
basket of roses big enough to fill up half of her stateroom on the _Bella
Cuba_--which she promptly gave to Kate, with various other elaborate
offerings, keeping for her own cabin only a small bunch of fragrant
violets sent by some one whose name she seemed to guess, although there
was no card.

So, at last, they were off; and no sad-faced girl in black had appeared.
Besides the original party of four, there was only a little dark,
keen-eyed English doctor, taken from his practice in Mentone. He looked
like a man who would know how to keep a secret, and Kate wondered whether
the mystery of the _Bella Cuba_ were a mystery to Dr. Grayle.

"Miss Dalahaide will come on board at Naples," Kate said to herself when
it became certain that they would stop there. "She is well known in
Mentone, no doubt, and didn't wish it to leak out that she was going on
this yachting trip."

But they arrived at Naples, sent off telegrams and letters, coaled, and
left without taking on another passenger. Always it seemed to Kate that
Virginia's manner showed suppressed nervous excitement. She was restless,
capricious, took an interest in nothing for more than ten minutes
together. She had never been to Naples before, yet she appeared to grudge
the two or three hours they spent in driving about, and would not listen
to Kate's suggestion that they should stop long enough for a visit to
Pompeii.

"Next time," she said evasively. Altogether, she had not at all the air
of a young woman yachting for pleasure, as of course she must be, since
what other object could the trip have? "I am in a hurry to see Cairo,"
she replied, when Lady Gardiner inquired the reason of her impatience.

After all, they did n