Tell me of some." Dora blushed.

She thought of the lodge and its one small parlor, and then felt wretched and uncomfortable, out of place, and unhappy.
"I have never seen any charades," she said, stiffly, and with crimson cheeks.
The countess opened her blue eyes in surprise, and Ronald looked anxiously from one to the other.
"My wife was too young when we were married to have seen much of the world," he said, inwardly hoping that the tears he saw gathering in Dora's dark eyes would not fall.
"Ah, then, she will be of no use in our council," replied the countess, quickly.

"Let us go out on the terrace; there is always inspiration under an Italian sky." She led the way to a pretty veranda on the terrace, and they sat under the shade of a large spreading vine.
"Now we can discuss my difficulty in peace," said the lady, in her pretty, imperious way.

"I will, with your permission, tell you some of my ideas." The countess was not particularly gifted, but Ronald was charmed by the series of pictures she placed before him, all well chosen, with startling points of interest, scenes from noble poems, pictures from fine old tragedies.

She never paused or seemed tired, while Dora sat, her face still flushed, looking more awkward and ill at ease than Ronald had ever seen her.