In her rich furs she looked almost pretty.
She shook hands eagerly with Steinmetz; her deep eyes searched his face with a singular, breathless scrutiny.
"Where are you from ?" she asked quickly.
"London." "Catrina," broke in the countess, "you do not remember M.de Chauxville! He nursed you when you were a child." Catrina turned and bowed to De Chauxville.
"I should have remembered you," he said, "if we had met accidentally.
After all, childhood is but a miniature--is it not so ?" "Perhaps," answered Catrina; "and when the miniature develops it loses the delicacy which was its chief charm." She turned again to Steinmetz, as if desirous of continuing her conversation with him.
"M.

de Chauxville, you surely have news ?" broke in the countess's cackling voice.

"I have begged M.Steinmetz in vain.

He says he has none; but is one to believe so notorious a bad character ?" "Madame, it is wise to believe only that which is convenient.

But Steinmetz, I promise you, is the soul of honor.