she dared; and as I had openly acknowledged that I had an object of my own in view, I need no longer have any scruples about staying.  
I had made excellent use of my opportunities, moreover; and if my last shaft had really hit the bull's-eye--that the influence behind her was that of Karl's brother--the discovery would be of the utmost value.  
Could it be Count Gustav? Instead of packing my trunks I sat trying to answer that question and the others which flowed from it. I had always heard him spoken of not only as a man of high capacity and integrity but as a staunch friend to his brother Karl. Yet he was a man; and he might be as false as any other. I would take no man's good faith for granted.  
There was the crucial fact, too, that Karl's ruin meant Gustav's advantage. Every one expressed regret that Karl and not Gustav was to be the future Duke; and if others felt this, was Gustav himself likely to hold a different opinion? From such an opinion it was no doubt a far cry to form a deliberate plot to secure the dukedom; but Gustav was no more than a man; and men had done such things before.  
I hoped they would send for me, that I might judge for myself. I could understand how my interference with such a scheme, if he had formed it, would rouse his resentment; and the difficulty it would present. To send me out of the house would in his view be tantamount to giving away the whole scheme at once to General von Erlanger; and I settled it with myself therefore that, if he was really at the back of the plot, he would be as eager to see me as I was to see him.  
An hour passed and I was beginning to think I was wrong, when Madame's French maid came to my room, saying that her mistress would very much like to speak to me.  
"Where is she, Ernestine?"  
"In the salon, mademoiselle."  
"Alone?"  
"M. le Comte Gustav is with her."  
"I will go to her," I said; and as she closed the door I laughed. I was not wrong, it seemed, but very much right; and I went down to meet them with the confidence borne of the feeling that I knew their object while they were in ignorance of mine.  
People did the Count no less than justice in describing him as a handsome man. He had one of the handsomest faces I had ever looked upon; eyes of the frankest blue, a most engaging air, and a smile that was almost irresistibly winning.  
He held out his hand when Madame presented him, and spoke in that ingratiating tone which is sometimes termed caressing.  
"I have desired so much to know Madame d'Artelle's new friend, Miss Gilmore. I trust you will count me also among your friends."  
"You are very kind, Count. You know we Americans have a weakness for titles. You flatter me." I was intensely American for the moment, and almost put a touch of the Western twang in my accent.  

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