"Eudoxia Adelaida, Marchioness St. Julian."
"The Marchioness St. Julian! Oh!"
"Do you know her?" I inquired, somewhat perplexed by his tone.
He smiled straight out this time.
"I don't know her, but there are a good many Peeresses in Malta and Gibraltar, and along the line of the Pacific, as my brother Ned, in the Belisarius, will tell you. I could count two score such of my acquaintance off at this minute."
I wondered what he meant. I dare say he knew all the Peerage; but that had nothing to do with me, and I thought it strange that all the Duchesses, and Countesses, and Baronesses should quit their country-seats and town-houses to locate themselves along the line of the Pacific.
"She's a fine woman, St. John?" he went on.
"Fine!" I reiterated, bursting into a panegyric, with which I won't bore you as I bored him.
"Well, you're going there to-night, you say; take me with you, and we'll see what I think of your Marchioness."
I looked at his fine figure and features, recalled certain tales of his conquests, remembered that he knew French, Italian, German, and Spanish, but, not being very able to refuse, acquiesced with a reluctance I could not entirely conceal. Conran, however, did not perceive it, and after mess took his cap, and went with me to the Casa di Fiori.