n intrigue with Richard Calmady
offered singular, unique attractions. But the force of such attractions
was immensely enhanced by the excitement of wresting his affections
away from another woman.

Suddenly, in the full swing of these meditations, as she reviewed them
for the hundredth time, Zelie's voice claimed her attention.

"I made the inquiries madame commanded."

"Well?" Helen said. She was standing fastening clusters of topaz in the
bosom of her dress.

"The servants in this house are very reserved. They are unwilling to
give information regarding their master's habits. I could only learn
that Sir Richard occupies the entresol. Communicating as it does with
the garden, no doubt it is convenient to a gentleman so afflicted as
himself."

Helen bowed herself together, while the black lace and China-crape
skirt slipped over her head. Emerging from which temporary eclipse, she
said:--

"But do people stay here much? Does my cousin entertain? That is what I
told you to find out."

"As I tell madame, the servants are difficult of approach. They are
very correct. They fear their master, but they also adore him. Charles
can obtain little more information than myself. But he infers that Sir
Richard, when at the villa, lives in retirement--that he is subject to
fits of melancholy. There will be little diversion for madame it is to
be feared! But what would you have? Even though one should be young and
rich _ce ne serait que peu amusant d'etre estropie, d'etre monstre
enfin_."

Helen drew in her breath with a little sigh of content, while taking a
final look at herself in the oval glass. The soft, floating draperies,
the many jewels, each with its heart of quick, yellow-pink light,
produced a combination at once sombre and vivid. It satisfied her sense
of artistic fitness. Decidedly she did well to begin with the black
dress, since it had in it a quality rather of romance than of
worldliness! Meanwhile Zelie, kneeling, straightened out the folds of
the long train.

"Ah!" she exclaimed. "I had forgotten also to inform madame that M.
Destournelle has arrived in Naples. Charles, thinking of nothing less
than such an encounter, met him this morning on the quay of the Santa
Lucia."

Helen wheeled round violently, much to the discomfiture of those
carefully adjusted folds.

"Intolerable man!" she cried. "What on earth is he doing here?"

"That, Charles naturally could not inquire.--Will madame kindly remain
tran