The hands dropped from that burning face, and two great, dilating eyes,
in which the tears stood, were turned on the angry woman.

"Young Lord Hilton! I do not know him."

The words came faintly from the girl's lips--she was bewildered.

"Why did he drop his glass and bend over the box with that look in his
face, then? Why did you start and trample back on your train? Why did
you give him that piteous glance just as your eyes closed? The audience
might not have seen it, but I did, I did."

"I--I do not understand," faltered the girl.

"Do not understand, miss!"

"How should I, not knowing the person you speak of?"

"Don't lie to me, girl! I am an old bird, and have had my own flights
too often not to understand a look when I see it. You have met that man
before--I don't know where or how, but you have."

"You speak of a person I never saw or heard of," answered the girl,
trembling with inward doubt; "how can I tell you anything about him?"

Olympia almost believed her, and, for once, her acute penetration was
baffled; but a doubt remained, and she turned to Eliza.

"If you know anything about this, tell me now; it will be better for her
and for you."

"I haven't anything to tell, Mrs. Olympia; not a thing!"

"Was any one admitted to the house near Florence?"

"Yes, ma'am, there was."

"Well, a young gentleman?"

"Yes; one young un, and another, older."

"Who were they?"

"The man who taught her how to speak Italian and the music fellow."

"Only those two?"

"Not another soul came or went while we stayed in that house."

"And she conversed with no one on the way?"

"Not a soul."

Olympia turned to go out. She was not convinced; having no truth in
herself she found no power of faith in others; but, for the time, the
blunt honesty of the servant and proud sincerity of the girl silenced
her, and she went out, muttering:

"I shall get at the bottom of it yet."

Then Caroline turned to Eliza:

"Can it be? I saw no other."

"I haven't a doubt of it," said Eliza. "I always mistrusted him for an
Englishman."

CHAPTER XX.

LORD HILTON TAKES SUPPER WITH OLYMPIA.

She had fallen ill. The prima donna of a single hour was lying in
Olympia's bijou of a house, struggling with a nervous fever. The whole
town had been made aware of the mournful fact; for the manager had
spread the news broadcast through the journals, thus displacing
disappointment with such overwhelming sympathy as the dis