r have left it."

Lady Carey's thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of
scorn. She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks
were thin and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden
expression which seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her
features suggested a sensuality which was a little incongruous with her
somewhat angular figure and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a
woman of courage and resource history had proved.

"How idyllic!" she exclaimed. "Positively medieval! Fancy living with
one man three years."

Lucille smiled.

"Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose
sake she would have done--what I did. I have had as many admirers--as
many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
mind."

Lady Carey laughed scornfully.

"Upon my word," she said. "If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all
with these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was
once one of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look
at him now--sideways. What does he remind you of?"

Lucille raised her eyes.

"A fat angel," she answered, "or something equally distasteful. How I
hate those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor
beater once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!"

"I should not blame him for that," Lady Carey said coldly. "I like
masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home
for his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory
handle. I should like to see him use it."

Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and
looked over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was
dealing, looked up with a smile.

"Be my good angel, Countess," he begged. "Fortune has deserted me
to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours
upon me."

A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.

"Too late, Prince," she exclaimed. "The favours of the Countess are all
given away. Lucille has become even as one of those