in buying interest, leaving his civil servants and soldiers unpaid.
This was the topic of much discussion in the press at the time, when I
went up one March evening to the signorina's. I had been detained
at the bank, and found the play in full swing when I came in. The
signorina was taking no part in it, but sat by herself on a low lounge
by the veranda window. I went up to her and made my bow.

"You spare us but little of your time, Mr. Martin," she said.

"Ah, but you have all my thoughts," I replied, for she was looking
charming.

"I don't care so much about your thoughts," she said. Then, after a
pause, she went on, "It's very hot here, come into the conservatory."

It almost looked as though she had been waiting for me, and I followed
in high delight into the long, narrow glass house running parallel to
the _salon_. High green plants hid us from the view of those inside,
and we only heard distinctly his Excellency's voice, saying with much
geniality to the colonel, "Well, you must be lucky in love, colonel,"
from which I concluded that the colonel was not in the vein at cards.

The signorina smiled slightly as she heard; then she plucked a white
rose, turned round, and stood facing me, slightly flushed as though
with some inner excitement.

"I am afraid those two gentlemen do not love one another," she said.

"Hardly," I assented.