Early the next afternoon the picnickers sallied forth in two automobiles, going first to the villa for the Countess Sophia and Madame de Villiers, then the two cars sped along the country road in the direction of the ostrich farm. Marian, Mollie, Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, Miss Stuart, Barbara, Maud and the Count de Sonde were in the foremost car, while the remainder of the party occupied the car first rented by Mr. Stuart, with Ruth as chauffeur.
“Why don’t you start a song?” called Ruth over her shoulder. “Grace, sing something. Sing ‘My Old Kentucky Home.’”
Grace sang the plaintive old melody in her sweet, high soprano voice.
The Countess Sophia was enchanted. “What a charming song!” she declared. “What an exquisite melody. I have not heard it before. Is it not one of your old southern songs?”
“Won’t you sing, Countess?” begged Mr. Stuart.
The countess shook her head and smiled. “I do not care to sing alone,” she avowed. “But I am sure Monsieur Duval has the throat of a singer. Will you not sing a song of your country, Monsieur?”
“If you will sing a song of your land in return,” answered the Frenchman quickly. Could it be that he, too, was curious to discover to a certainty the Countess Sophia von Stolberg’s nationality?
The countess dropped her eyes under Mr. Duval’s steady gaze.
“I do not sing without an accompaniment, Monsieur,” she said briefly.
Madame de Villiers looked annoyed. Grace and Ruth wondered why the countess should be so secretive. She spoke French, German and English almost equally well. On her library table Ruth had discovered a number of Italian books.