"And I'll leave it to Cooley," said Pedlow. "If he can drink all of his
I'll eat crow!"

Thus challenged, the two young men smilingly accepted glasses from the
waiter, and lifted them on high.

"Same toast," said Cooley. "Queen!"

_"A la belle Marquise!"_

Gallantly they drained the glasses at a gulp, and Madame de Vaurigard
clapped her hands.

"Bravo!" she cried. "You see? Corni and I, we win."

"Look at their faces!" said Mr. Pedlow, tactlessly drawing attention to
what was, for the moment, an undeniably painful sight. "Don't tell me an
Italian knows how to make a good Martini!"

Mellin profoundly agreed, but, as he joined the small procession to the
Countess' dinner-table, he was certain that an Italian at least knew how
to make a strong one.

The light in the dining-room was provided by six heavily-shaded candles
on the table; the latter decorated with delicate lines of orchids. The
chairs were large and comfortable, covered with tapestry; the glass was
old Venetian, and the servants, moving like useful ghosts in the shadow
outside the circle of mellow light, were particularly efficient in the
matter of keeping the wine-glasses full. Madame de Vaurigard had put
Pedlow on her right, Cooley on her left, with Mellin directly opposite