the slender girl in the black dress who came
in and took her place at the table.

She said "Good afternoon" in her pleasant little voice.

The governess person seemed rather surprised that she should address
her.

"Good afternoon," she replied. "Do you take milk and sugar?"

"Bring them round for us to help ourselves," dictated Mamie.

Olive only smiled as she repeated her question, but Edna was
distressed at her cousin's rudeness, and her sensitive face was quite
pink as she hurriedly declined sugar. She came to the table to fetch
her cup, but Miss Whittaker waited for hers to be brought to her.

"How do you like this room, Edna? I had it fixed up for myself, and
everything in it is mine." She looked complacently up at the hangings
of primrose silk that hid the fifteenth century frescoes on the walls.

Her cousin hesitated. "I guess it must have cost some."

"Yes. The Marchese does not like it. He is so set on his worm-eaten
old tapestries and carved chairs, and he wanted momma to refurnish the
palace to match, but not she! Louis Quinze, she said, and Louis
Quinze it is, more or less. I tell the Marchese that if he is so fond
of the musty Middle Ages he ought to go about in armour himself by
rights. But the old sinner is not really a bit romantic."

It occurred to Olive that the right kind of governess would utter a
word in season. "It is not usual for young girls to refer to their
stepfathers as you do," she said drily.

"Wait until you know mine better," Mamie answered unabashed. "Last
night he said your complexion was miraculous. Next thing he'll try if
it comes off. Are you coming to dinner to-night, Edna?"

"Yes, auntie asked us. The--the Prince will be here, won't he?"

Mamie looked down her nose. "Oh, yes," she said carelessly. "Your beau
will come. People generally do when we ask them. The food is all
right, and we have real good music afterwards sometimes. You know
Avenel stays in Florence whiles because his brother has a Villa at
Settignano. Well, momma guessed she would get him to play here for
nothing once. Of course she was willing to pay any money for him
really, but she just thought she would try it on. She asked him to
dinner with a lot of other people, and made him take her in, though
there were two Neapolitan dukes among the guests. The food was
first-rate; she had told the cook to do his best, and she really
thought the _entree_ would have made Vitellius sit up. It was
perfect. Well, af