re I believe I detest our people."

"How are you, then, to live amongst them?"

"I don't mean it I shall not go back. If I grow weary of Europe, I 'll
try Egypt, or I 'll go live at Lebanon. Do you know, since I saw Lear's
picture of the cedars, I have been dying to live there. It would be so
delightful to lie under the great shade of those glorious trees, with
one's 'barb' standing saddled near, and groups of Arabs in their white
burnouses scattered about. What's this? Here's a note for you?"

The Countess took the note from the servant, and ran her eyes hurriedly
over it.

"This is impossible," murmured she, "quite impossible. Only think,
Gusta, here is the French Secretary of Legation, Baron de Limayrac,
asking my permission to present to me no less a person than Monsieur de
Pracontal."

"Do you mean the Pracontal--the Pretender himself?"

"Of course. It can be no other. Can you imagine anything so
outrageously in bad taste? Limayrac must know who this man is, what
claims he is putting forward, who he assumes to be; and yet he proposes
to present him here. Of course I shall refuse him."

"No, _cara_, nothing of the kind. Receive him by all means. You or
I have nothing to do with law or lawyers,--he does not come here to
prosecute his suit. On the contrary, I accept his wish to make our
acquaintance as an evidence of a true gentlemanlike instinct; and,
besides, I am most eager to see him."

"Remember, Gusta, the Culduffs are coming here, and they will regard
this as a studied insult. I think I should feel it such myself in their
place."

"I don't think they could. I am certain they ought not. Does any one
believe that every person in a room with four or five hundred is his
dear friend, devoted to him, and dying to serve him? If you do not
actually throw these people together, how are they more in contact in
your salon than in the Piazza del Popolo?"

"This note is in pencil, too," went she on. "I suppose it was written
here. Where is the Baron de Limayrac?"

"In his carriage, my Lady, at the door."

"You see, dearest, you cannot help admitting him."

The Countess had but time to say a few hurried words to the servant,
when the doors were thrown open, and the company began to pour in.
Arrivals followed each other in rapid succession, and names of every
country in Europe were announced, as their titled owners--soldiers,
statesmen, cardinals, or ministers--passed on, and _grandes dames_ in
all the plenit