"Marguerite d'Estrées."
Kitty tossed the note over to Ashe. "Aren't you dining out somewhere to-night?"
Her voice was listless. And as Ashe lifted his head from the cabinet papers which had just reached him by special messenger, his attention was disagreeably recalled from high matters of state to the very evident delicacy of his wife. He replied that he had promised to dine with Prince S—— at Danieli's, in order to talk Italian politics. "But I can throw it over in a moment, if you want me. I came to Venice for you, darling," he said, as he rose and joined her on the balcony which commanded a fine stretch of the canal.
"No, no! Go and dine with your prince. I'll go with maman—Margaret and I. At least, Margaret must, of course, please herself!"
She shrugged her shoulders, and then added, "Maman's probably in the pink of society here. Venice doesn't take its cue from people like Aunt Lina!"
Ashe smiled uncomfortably. He was in truth by this time infinitely better acquainted with the incidents of Madame d'Estrées's past career than Kitty was. He had no mind whatever that Kitty should become less ignorant, but his knowledge sometimes made conversation difficult.
Kitty was perfectly aware of his embarrassment.
"You never tell me—" she said, abruptly. "Did she really do such dreadful things?"
"My dear Kitty!—why talk about it?"
Kitty flushed, then threw a flower into the water below with a defiant gesture.