stable.
By means of them the mistress of The Crags kept in touch with nearly
fifty servants. Here at her desk she could plan her campaigns, lay
counter mine against mine, plan stratagems, and devise ideas. Her
superiority over those who sought, or had sought in the past, to rival
her lay in the fact that she could devise, outline, and execute her
projects without assistance. A former secretary with some degree of
literary talent had, upon dismissal, written up that office and its
genius for a Sunday newspaper, and several hundred thousand good
people, upon reading it, had marvelled at the tremendous means employed
to such trivial ends.

But after all, who shall say what is trivial in this world and what is
not? Let it rest with the assertion that in any other sphere,
business, sociology, charity, Belle Wellington's genius would have
carried her as far as in that domain wherein she had set her endeavors.
As to charity, for that matter, she had given a mountain recluse, a
physician, five hundred thousand dollars with which to found a
tuberculosis sanitarium, and--but those were things which not even her
friends knew and concerning which, therefore, we should remain silent.

Slowly she leaned forward and pressed a button. Mrs. Stetson, the
housekeeper, soon appeared.

"Good-morning, Mrs. Stetson," she said. "Prince Koltsoff seems to have
anticipated us." She suddenly remembered she had utilized her
daughter's expression, and bit her lips. "When did he arrive?"

"He came last night in the French ambassador's carriage."

"Last night!" Mrs. Wellington glanced at her secretary. "Will you
bring my engagement book, please." This in hand, she turned the pages
hastily, then put it down.

"There has been some mistake. He was not to come to us until luncheon
to-day. Was M. Renaud with him?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wellington, but he did not stay. The Prince seemed to know
he was not expected. He apologized profusely, but said that events had
brought him here a day early and trusted there was no inconvenience.
He did not dine, but spent the evening in the smoking-room, writing.
He sent two cable despatches by Parker."

"Um-m, _degage_, even for a Russian," said Mrs. Wellington. "And he
arose early?"

"Very early. He asked Mr. Dawson for a car to go to the village at
half after six."

Mrs. Wellington almost revealed her intense interest.

"Ah, to the village," she said. "Did he say--did he explain the
reasons for