It was vexatious enough that Madalena had not been able to explain the
mystery of last night. But this was ten times more annoying.
"Am I not to know the end of the act?" she asked as her hostess
poured tea. The latter shrugged her shoulders, as if to shake off
responsibility. "Ah, I cannot tell! Perhaps if----"
She stopped, and handed her guest a cup.
"Perhaps if--_what_?"
"Oh, nothing!" Madalena tasted her own tea and put in more cream.
"Do tell me what you were going to say, _dear_ Countess, unless you want
me to die of curiosity."
"I should be sorry to have you do that!" smiled Madalena. "But if I said
what I was going to say, you might misunderstand. You might think--I was
asking for an invitation."
Instantly Constance's mind unveiled the other's meaning. There was to be
an Easter party at Valley House--a very smart party. The Countess de
Santiago wished to be a member of it. Lady Annesley-Seton, shrewd as she
was, had a vein of superstition running through her nature, and, though
one side of that nature said that the scene with the crystal had been
arranged for this end, the other side held its belief in the vision.
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