nal thought of "the
only man" she had said she was "disposed" to like, teased his brain;
but he was not petty-minded or jealous. He was keenly and sincerely
interested in her intellectual capacity, and he knew, or thought he
knew, the nature of woman. He watched her now as she reclined, a small
slim figure in white, with the red glow of the sun playing on the gold
uptwisted coil of her hair,--a few people of the neighbourhood had
joined her at dinner, and these were seated about, sipping coffee and
chatting in the usual frivolous way of after-dinner guests--one or two
of them were English who had made their home in Sicily,--the others
were travelling Americans.

"I guess you're pretty satisfied with your location, Miss Royal"--said
one of these, a pleasant-faced grey-haired man, who for four or five
years past had wintered in Sicily with his wife, a frail little
creature always on the verge of the next world--"It would be difficult
to match this place anywhere! You only want one thing to complete it!"

Morgana turned her lovely eyes indolently towards him over the top of
the soft feather fan she was waving lightly to and fro.

"One thing? What is that?" she queried.

"A husband!"

She smiled.

"The usual appendage!" she said--"To my mind, quite unnecessary, and
likely to spoil the most perfect environment! Though the Marchese
Rivardi DID ask me to-day what was the use of my pretty 'palazzo' and
gardens without love! A sort of ethical conundrum!"

She glanced at Rivardi as she spoke--he was rolling a cigarette in his
slim brown fingers and his face was impassively intent on his
occupation.

"Well, that's so!"--and her American friend looked at her kindly--"Even
a fairy palace and a fairy garden might prove lonesome for one!"

"And boresome for two!" laughed Morgana--"My dear Colonel Boyd! It is
not every one who is fitted for matrimony--and there exist so many that
ARE,--eminently fitted--we can surely allow a few exceptions! I am one
of those exceptions. A husband would be excessively tiresome to me, and
very much in my way!"

Colonel Boyd laughed heartily.

"You won't always think so!" he said--"Such a charming little woman
must have a heart somewhere!"

"Oh, yes, dear!" chimed in his fragile invalid wife, "I am sure you
have a heart!"

Morgana raised herself on her cushions to a sitting posture and looked
round her with a curious little air or defiance.

"A heart I MUST have!" she said--"otherwise I