“He toured with me all through Belgium and Holland,” quickly bragged Mrs. Alexander, certain now that these two young men were “somebodies.”
“Why—I really believe you are the people he wrote us about!” exclaimed Everard, honestly surprised at his discovery.
“Yes—he said there were four of the prettiest girls in the party, but he never mentioned their names,” added Traviston.
Now the four girls smiled with gratification, and before they started for Milan, it was half decided to visit the Count at his Italian Estate, before going on to Rome, or other places south of Venice.
At Milan the young men said they would get in communication with the Count and arrange for their going there the next day, Mr. Fabian escorted his girls to the famous cathedral of Milan, and showed them the places of interest in the city, then they resumed the journey to Padua, where they purposed remaining over-night. From there they would drive to Chalmys Palace in the morning, just a few miles from Venice.
During the absence of Mr. Fabian and his companions on the tour of the city, Mrs. Alexander had determined to get all the information she could from the two young men, when they came back to the hotel. And they, seeing how eager she was for them to develop into superior beings of quality, thought to please her that way.
When her friends joined her at the hotel again, the two young men were not there, but she was bubbling over with wonderful news.
“I knew it! I can tell the moment I see a young man with a title. That one who calls himself Basil Traviston, is really a Marquis of France. He came into the title a few weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem to fuss about it any. And his cousin Alan Everard is the son of Count Chalmys. That is why they know him so well.”
“The Count’s son?” gasped Nancy Fabian, unbelievingly.
“Yes, and they were all in Paris together and had planned to join each other again at Venice. But they will meet at Chalmys Palace sooner than they had intended,” explained Mrs. Alexander.