evening. We can all go to the theatre together; the omnibus is
outside."

The little party passed through the foyer and into the hall of
the hotel, where they waited while the Duchess' carriage was
called. Mr. Coulson was there in an easy chair, smoking a cigar,
and watching the people coming and going. He studied the
passers-by with ah air of impersonal but pleased interest.
Penelope and Lady Grace were certainly admirable foils. The
latter was fair, with beautiful complexion--a trifle sunburnt,
blue eyes, good-humored mouth, and features excellent in their
way, but a little lacking in expression. Her figure was good; her
movements slow but not ungraceful; her dress of white ivory satin
a little extravagant for the occasion. She looked exactly what
she was,--a well-bred, well-disposed, healthy young Englishwoman,
of aristocratic parentage. Penelope, on the other hand, more
simply dressed, save for the string of pearls which hung from her
neck, had the look of a creature from another world. She had
plenty of animation; a certain nervous energy seemed to keep her
all the time restless. She talked ceaselessly, sometimes to the
Prince, more often to Sir Charles. Her gray-green eyes were
bright, her cheeks delicately flushed. She spoke and looked and
moved as one on fire with the joy of life. The Prince, noticing
that Lady Grace had been left to herself for the last few
moments, moved a little towards her and commenced a courteous
conversation. Sir Charles took the opportunity to bend over his
companion.

"Penelope," he said, "you are queer tonight. Tell me what it is?
You don't really dislike the Prince, do you?"