fingered her hair and examined the ornaments of her dress. She had
a great deal of conversation, Longueville speedily learned, and she
expressed herself with extreme frankness and decision. He asked her,
to begin with, if she had been long at Baden, but the impetus of
this question was all she required. Turning her charming, conscious,
coquettish little face upon him, she instantly began to chatter.

"I have been here about four weeks. I don't know whether you call that
long. It does n't seem long to me; I have had such a lovely time. I have
met ever so many people here I know--every day some one turns up. Now
you have turned up to-day."

"Ah, but you don't know me," said Longueville, laughing.

"Well, I have heard a great deal about you!" cried the young girl, with
a pretty little stare of contradiction. "I think you know a great friend
of mine, Miss Ella Maclane, of Baltimore. She 's travelling in Europe
now." Longueville's memory did not instantly respond to this signal, but
he expressed that rapturous assent which the occasion demanded, and
even risked the observation that the young lady from Baltimore was very
pretty. "She 's far too lovely," his companion went on. "I have often
heard her speak of you. I think you know her sister rather better than
you know her. She has not been out very long. She is just as interesting
as she can be. Her hair comes down to her feet. She 's travelling in
Norway. She has been everywhere you can think of, and she 's going to
finish off with Finland. You can't go any further than that, can you?
That 's one comfort; she will have to turn round and come back. I want
her dreadfully to come to Baden-Baden."

"I wish she would," said Longueville. "Is she travelling alone?"