Lady Blennington.

"You promised to tell me more about some of these people," he
reminded her. "I am driven to make guesses all the time. Why does
Mr. Starling look so much like an unwilling and impatient guest? And
where is the castle of the Count Sabatini which has no roof?"

Lady Blennington sighed.

"This table is much too small for us to indulge in scandal," she
replied. "It really is such a pity. One so seldom meets any one
worth talking to who doesn't know everything there is that shouldn't
be known about everybody. About Count Sabatini, for instance, I
could tell you some most amusing things."

"His castle, perhaps, is in the air?" Arnold inquired.

"By no means," Lady Blennington assured him.

"On the contrary, it is very much upon the rocks. Some little island
near Minorca, I believe. They say that Mr. Weatherley was wrecked
there and Sabatini locked him up in a dungeon and refused to let him
go until he promised to marry his sister."

"There are a good many men in the world, I should think," Arnold
murmured, "who would like to be locked up on similar conditions."

She looked at him with a queer little smile.

"I suppose it is inevitable," she declared. "You will have to go