than you have pennies. Helen would console herself with the thought
that the wife of a knight is as much 'Lady So-and-So' as a countess. I
hate that grocerman, and as for Helen, you ought to thank heaven
fasting for your escape."

"Perhaps I shall some day, but that day is not yet," I answered.
"However, there is still Monte Carlo."

"Shall you drown your sorrows in roulette?" asked Molly, looking
horrified.

"Who knows?"

"Don't let her misjudge you," cut in Jack. "Have you forgotten what I
told you about the Italian Countess, Molly?"

"Oh, the Countess with whom Lord Lane used to flirt at Davos before he
met Miss Blantock? Now I see. You said that you were going to Monte
Carlo, on purpose to make Helen Blantock jealous."

"I'm afraid some spiteful idea of the sort was in my mind," I
admitted. "But the Countess is fascinating, and if she would be kind,
Monte Carlo might effect a cure of the heart, as Davos did of the
lungs."

"I believe you're capable of marrying for pique. Oh, if I could prove
to you that you aren't, and never have been, in love with Helen!"

"It would be difficult."