somewhere, some time, a face of a similar cast. It occurred to
Nella to look at the 'Almanach de Gotha' - that record of all the
mazes of Continental blue blood; but the 'Almanach de Gotha'
made no reference to any barony of Zerlinski. Nella inquired
where the Baroness meant to take lunch, and was informed that a
table had been reserved for her in the dining-room, and she at once
decided to lunch in the dining-room herself. Seated in a corner,
half-hidden by a pillar, she could survey all the guests, and watch
each group as it entered or left. Presently the Baroness appeared,
dressed in black, with a tiny lace shawl, despite the June warmth;
very stately, very quaint, and gently smiling. Nella observed her
intently. The lady ate heartily, working without haste and without
delay through the elaborate menu of the luncheon. Nella noticed
that she had beautiful white teeth. Then a remarkable thing
happened. A cream puff was served to the Baroness by way of
sweets, and Nella was astonished to see the little lady remove the
top, and with a spoon quietly take something from the interior
which looked like a piece of folded paper. No one who had not
been watching with the eye of a lynx would have noticed anything
extraordinary in the action; indeed, the chances were nine hundred
and ninety-nine to one that it would pass unheeded. But,
unfortunately for the Baroness, it was the thousandth chance that
happened. Nella jumped up, and walking over to the Baroness,
said to her:

'I'm afraid that the tart is not quite nice, your ladyship.'

'Thanks, it is delightful,' said the Baroness coldly; her smile had
vanished. 'Who are you? I thought you were de bureau clerk.'