uncommonly pretty and winning.

Both girls, catching sight at the same moment of Zertho’s heavy watch-chain at the window, muttered together in an undertone. That day the Prince had arrived unexpectedly to lunch, sat down to their meagre dish of cold mutton, as he had often done in the old days when funds had been low, and having indicated his desire to talk business alone with the Captain, they had gone out together to post a letter at the little grocery store at the opposite end of the village.

When they discovered him still there, both pulled wry faces. He had never been a favourite of either. Liane had always instinctively disliked this man, who was the scapegrace of a noble family. His cynical look and sly manner had caused her to distrust him, and it had been mainly on this account that her father had dissolved his partnership in the private gaming-house they had carried on during the previous winter in Nice, an institution remembered with regret by many a young man who had gone to the Riviera for health and pleasure, only to return ruined. Zertho was not entirely unconscious of Liane’s antipathy towards him; he well knew that without her father’s aid his cause must be foredoomed to failure. But he never on any single occasion acted in undue haste. It was his proud boast that if ever he set his heart upon doing a thing he could quietly possess his soul in patience, for years if necessary, till the right moment arrived when he could execute his plans with success. Judging from the light, pleasant greeting he gave both girls as they entered, it was the tactics of craft and cunning he now intended to follow.

He chaffed Liane upon becoming a village belle, whereupon she, quick at repartee, tossed her handsome head, her heart beating fast, almost tumultuously, as she answered:

“Better that than the old life, M’sieur.”

“Oh, so you, too, have settled and become puritanical!” he laughed. “You English, you are always utterly incomprehensible. Have you yet joined the Anti-Gambling League?”

“We are very happy here,” she replied, heedless of his taunt. “I have no desire to return to the Continent, to that old life of feast one day and fast the next.”

“Nor I,” chimed in Nellie, full of fun and vivacity. “This place is sometimes horribly dull, it’s true; but we always get our dinner, which we didn’t on many occasions when we were abroad. Look at our house! Surely this place, with its little English garden, is better than those 

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