as foolish--very foolish, Bindo. I ought not to have met you
to-day. I ought to have told you the truth from the very first."

"Not at all. Even if your husband is away, there is surely no reason why
you should not speak to an old friend like myself, is there?"

"Yes; I'm known in Nice, as you are well aware."

"Known as the prettiest woman who comes on the Riviera," he declared,
taking her hand and examining the wedding ring and the fine circle of
diamonds above it. Bindo di Ferraris was an expert in gems.

"Don't be a flatterer," she protested, with a light laugh. "You've said
that, you know, hundreds of times before."

"I've said only what's the truth, and I'm sure Ewart will bear me out."

"I do, most certainly. Madame is most charming," I asserted; and it was
undoubtedly my honest opinion. I was, however, disappointed equally with
the Count to discover that my dainty divinity in black was married. She
was certainly not more than nineteen, and had none of the self-possessed
air of the matron about her.

Twice during that conversation I had risen to go, but the Count bade me
stay, saying with a laugh--

"There is nothing in this that you may not hear. Madame has deceived us
both."

He treated the situation as a huge joke, yet I detected that the
deception had annoyed him. Had the plans he had laid been upset by this
unexpected discovery of the marriage? From his demeanour of suppressed
chagrin I felt sure they had been.

Suddenly he glanced at his watch, and then taking from his pocket an
envelope containing some small square hard object, about two inches long
by one inch broad, he said--

"Go to the station and meet the twelve-fifteen from Beaulieu to Cannes.
You'll find Sir Charles Blythe in the train. Give him this from me, and
say that I'll meet him at the Beau Site at Cannes at four o'clock. Have
the car ready at two. I'll come to the garage. You haven't much time to
spare, so take a cab."

I rose, raised my hat to the dark-eyed little woman, who bowed
gracefully and then, mounting into a _fiacre_, drove rapidly up the
Avenue de la Gare.

The situation was decidedly interesting. My ideal of that sunny morning
had been shattered. Gabrielle of the luminous eyes was already a wife.

I met the train, and discovered Sir Charles looking out for me. I handed
him the packet, and gave him the Count's message. I noticed that he had
some light luggage with him, and presumed that he was moving from
Beaulieu