"They're both immensely interested in you, it seems to me."
Miss Quarich's brows rose. "My dear," she said, "it struck me that you came in for some notice also."
Valeska smiled. "But I don't expect to receive a present from either of them on Saturday, however."
Miss Quarich sat up with animation. "It's great fun, of course," she said; "but it's tantalizing. I would never suspect either of them of being romantic. Of course I've had loads of flowers and books and all that sort of thing from men, and both these men have been, as you say, interested—and attentive. In fact, each of them has come dangerously near to—a refusal." She laughed merrily.
"Do you recall having mentioned the size of your shoe to either of them?"
"Not at all; though either might have found out, if he tried hard enough."
"And about the album?"
"Oh, I recall having mentioned one I saw, one night at dinner when they were both there. I must show it to you." She rang a bell at her side, and shortly a maid appeared. "Stebbins, will you bring that album on the table in my room, please?"
When it came, Valeska examined it interestedly. It was made in imitation of the Renaissance volumes that are still decorated and sold in Sienna. The board covers were gilded and painted with quaint pictures of knights and castles, and were bound with leather thongs, fastened with silver-headed nails. Inside were pages of tooled leather, with apertures for photographs. The slippers were also brought, of golden and blue embroidery of a quaint design. But, despite her close scru-
