alighting at the staircase of Saint Peter's from the carriage with the
superb horses which her father has given her? Close your eyes and see
her in your thoughts. Would she not be pretty? Would she not?"

"Very pretty," replied Ardea, smiling at the tempting vision Madame
Steno had conjured up, "but she is not fair. And you know, to me, a
woman who is not fair--ah, Countess! What a pity that in Venice, five
years ago, on a certain evening--do you remember?"

"How much like you that is!" interrupted she, laughing her deep, clear
laugh. "You came to see me this morning to talk to me of a marriage,
unhoped for with your reputation of gamester, of supper-giver,
of 'mauvais sujet'; of a marriage which fulfils conditions most
improbable, so perfect are they--beauty, youth, intelligence, fortune,
and even, if I have read my little friend aright, the beginning of an
interest, of a very deep interest. And, for a little, you would make a
declaration to me. Come, come!" and she extended to him for a kiss her
beautiful hand, on which gleamed large emeralds. "You are forgiven. But
answer--yes or no. Shall I make the proposal? If it is yes, I will go
to the Palace Savorelli at two o'clock. I will speak to my friend
Hafner. He will speak to his daughter, and it will not depend upon me
if you have not their reply this evening or to-morrow morning. Is it
yes? Is it no?"

"This evening? To-morrow?" exclaimed the Prince, shaking his head with
a most comical gesture. "I can not decide like that. It is an ambush!
I come to talk, to consult you."

"And on what?" asked Madame Steno, with a vivacity almost impatient.
"Can I tell you anything you do not already know? In twenty-four hours,