the reverse of that of a religious "Sister."
Dressed in a smart gown of cream cloth,--one of those gowns that are so
peculiarly the mode at Monte Carlo,--white shoes, and a white hat, she
looked delightfully fresh and _chic_ beneath her pale-blue sunshade.

"Ah, M'sieur Ewart!" she cried, in her broken English, as I approached,
"I am so glad you have come. I have been waiting ever so long. I want to
go to Monte Carlo."

"Then I'll be delighted to take you," I answered, raising my hat. "Mr.
Bellingham has left already, and will be absent, I believe, a day or
two. Meanwhile, if you will accept my escort, mademoiselle, I shall be
only too willing to be yours to obey."

"_Bien!_ What a pretty speech!" she laughed. "I wonder whether you will
say that to Madame."

"Has Madame arrived?"

"She came this morning, just before noon. But," she added, "look, here
she comes."

I glanced in the direction she indicated, and saw approaching us the
short, queer figure of a little old woman in stiff dark-green silk
skirts of the style a decade ago.

"Madame, here is M'sieur Ewart!" cried the pretty Pierrette, as the old
lady advanced, and I bowed.

She proved to be about the ugliest specimen of the gentler sex that I
had ever met. Her face was wrinkled and puckered, wizened and brown; her
eyes were close set, and beyond her thin lips protruded three or four
yellow fangs, rendering her perfectly hideous. Moreover, on her upper
lip was quite a respectable moustache, while from her chin long white
hairs straggled at intervals.

"Where is Mr. Bellingham?" she asked snappishly, in a shrill, rasping
voice, like the sharpening of a file.

"He has left, and will be absent a few days, I believe. He has placed
this car and myself at your disposal, and ordered me to present his
regrets that pressing business calls him away."

"Regrets!" she exclaimed, with a slight toss of her head. "He need not
have sent any. I know that he is a very busy man."

"M'sieur Ewart is going to take me to Monte Carlo," Pierrette said. "You
will be too fatigued to go, won't you? I will return quite early."

"Yes, my dear," the old woman replied, speaking most excellent English,
although I gathered that she was either German or Austrian. "I am too
tired. But do be back early, won't you? I know how anxious you are to
see the Casino."

So my dainty little charge obtained her fur motor-coat, and ten minutes
later we were leaving a trail of dust along the roa