siness of the Double Four."

Peter was relieved, but his innate politeness forbade his showing it.

"Proceed," he said.

"The Brothers Korust," she went on, leaning towards him, "have a week's
engagement at the Alhambra. Their salary is six hundred pounds. They
play very beautifully, of course, but I think that it is as much as they
are worth."

Peter agreed with her fervently. He had no soul for music.

"They have taken the furnished house belonging to one of your dukes, in
Hamilton Place, for which we are bound; taken it, too, at a fabulous
rent," Mademoiselle Celaire continued. "They have installed there a chef
and a whole retinue of servants. They were here for seven nights; they
have issued invitations for seven supper parties."

"Hospitable young men they seem to be," Peter murmured. "I read in one
of the stage papers that Andrea is a count in his own country, and that
they perform in public only for the love of their music and for the sake
of the excitement and travel."

"A paragraph wholly inspired and utterly false," Mademoiselle Celaire
declared firmly, sitting a little forward in the car and laying her
hand, ablaze with jewels, upon his coat sleeve. "Listen. They call
themselves Hungarians. Bah! I know that they are in touch with a great
European Court, both of them, the Court of the country to which they
really belong. They have plans, plans and schemes connected with their
visit here, which I do not understand. I have done my best with Andrea
Korust, but he is not a man to be trusted. I know that there is
something more in these seven supper parties than idle hospitality. I
and others like me, artistes and musicians, are invited, to give the
assemblies a properly Bohemian tone, but there are to be other guests,
attracted there, no doubt, because the papers have spoken of these
gatherings."

"You have some idea of what it all means, in your mind?" Peter
suggested.

"It is too vague to put into words," she declared, shaking her head. "We
must both watch. Afterwards we will, if you like, compare notes."

The car drew up before the doors of a handsome house in Hamilton Place.
A footman received Peter, and relieved him of his hat and overcoat. A
trim maid performed the same office for Mademoiselle Celaire. They met a
moment or two later and were ushered into a large drawing-room in which
a dozen or two of men and women were already assembled, and from which
came a pleasant murmur of voices and laught