“I thank you for your charming hospitality, Mademoiselle,” broke in the suave tones of Mr. Duval, who with the count at his heels had stepped unnoticed to the young woman’s side. “Am I presumptuous in venturing to ask if it is your pleasure that we should know to whom we are indebted?”
“Ah to be sure. I have been what you call, very stupid,” laughed the unknown. “Pray pardon me.” Gliding over to the side of the stern old woman, she took her hand. “Permit me to present my very dear friend, Madame de Villiers. I am the Countess Sophia von Stolberg.”
CHAPTER IV
THE COMPACT
“Girls!” exclaimed Ruth, who lay curled up on the foot of her bed in a pale blue silk kimono. “I feel like offering a libation to the Storm King to-night for sending us that squall.”
“Why?” inquired Grace, who was not gifted with an Oriental imagination.
“Because, if there had been no storm, there would have been no Countess Sophia,” replied her friend.
“She is hard to understand, but she is so beautiful, so gentle and so noble,” observed Barbara.
“And she kissed me!” cried Mollie.