tessa di Forno-Populo had not
indeed, she said loftily, ever desired to make her appearance before the
Piedmontese; but she had the stamp upon her, though partially worn out,
of the old Grand Ducal Court of Tuscany--which many people think more
of--and these two stately Italian ladies made as great a sensation by
their beauty and their stately air as had been made at any drawing-room
in the present reign. The most august and discriminating of critics
remarked them above all others. And a Lady, whose knowledge of family
history is unrivalled, like her place in the world, condescended to
remember that the Conte di Forno-Populo had married an English lady.
Their dresses were specially described by Lady Anastasia in her
favourite paper; and their portraits were almost recognisable in the
_Graphic_, which gave a special (fancy) picture of the drawing-room in
question. Triumph could not farther go.

It was not till after this event that Bice revealed the purpose which
was one of her inducements for that visit to little Tom's sick bed. On
the evening of that great day, just before going out in all her
splendour to the Duchess's reception held on that occasion, she took her
lover aside, whose pride in her magnificence and all the applause that
had been lavished on her knew no bounds.

"Listen," she said, "I have something to tell you. Perhaps, when you
hear it, all will be over. I have not allowed you to come near me nor
touch me----"

"No, by Jove! It has been stand off, indeed! I don't know what you mean
by it," cried Montjoie ruefully; "that wasn't what I bargained for,
don't you know?"

"I am going to explain," said Bice. "You shall know, then, that when I
had those headaches--you remember--and you could not see me, I had no
headaches, _mon ami_. I was with Milady Randolph in Park Lane, in the
middle of the fever, nursing the boy."

Montjoie gazed at her with round eyes. He recoiled a step, then rushing
at his betrothed, notwithstanding her Court plumes and flounces, got
Bice in his arms. "By Jove!" he cried, "and that was why! You thought I
was frightened of the fever; that is the best joke I have heard for
ages, don't you know? What a pluck you've got, Bee! And what a beauty
you are, my pretty dear! I am going to pay myself all the arrears."

"Don't," said Bice, plaintively; the caresses were not much to her mind,
but she endured them to a certain limit. "I wondered," she said with a
faint sigh, "what you would say