“I saw this lying in the street, and ran to pick it up,” she exclaimed.

“You might better have left it,” I said stiffly.  “Perhaps Mademoiselle de Renzie dropped it.”

“No, I don’t think so.  It wasn’t in front of her house.”

“It may belong to that man who was watching, then.”

“It doesn’t look much like a thing that a man would carry about with him, does it?”

“No,” I admitted, indifferently.  “Now we will go home.”

“Don’t you want to wait and see how long Ivor Dundas stops?”

“Indeed I don’t!” I cried.  “I don’t want to know any more about him.”  And for the moment I almost believed that what I said was true.

“Very well,” said Lisa, “perhaps we do know enough to prove to us both that I haven’t anything to reproach myself with.  And the less you think about him after this, the better.”

“I shan’t think about him at all,” I said.  But I knew that was a boast I should never be able to keep, try as I might.  I felt now that I could understand how people must feel when they are very old and weary of life.  I don’t believe that I shall feel older and more tired if I live to be eighty than I felt then.  It was a slight comfort to know that we were on our way back to the hotel, and that soon I should be in my room alone, with the door shut and locked between Lisa and me; but it was only very slight.  I couldn’t imagine ever being really pleased about anything again.

“You will marry Lord Robert now, I suppose,” chirped Lisa, “and show Ivor Dundas that he hasn’t spoiled your life.”

As she asked this question she was tugging away at a knot in the ribbons that tied the bag she had found.

“Perhaps I shall,” I answered.  “I might do worse.”

“I should think you might!” exclaimed Lisa.  “Oh, do accept him soon.  I don’t want Ivor Dundas to say to himself that you’re broken-hearted for him.  Lord Bob is sure to propose to you to-morrow—­even if he hasn’t already:  and if he has, he’ll do it again.  I saw it in his eye all to-day.  He was dying to speak at any minute, if only he’d got a chance with you alone.  You will say ‘yes’ when he does, won’t you, and have the engagement announced at once?”

“I’ll see how I feel at the time, if it comes,” I answered, trying to speak gaily, but making a failure of it.

At last Lisa had got the brocade bag open, and was looking in.  She seemed surprised by what she saw, and very much interested.  She put in her hand, and touched the thing, whatever it was; but she did not tell me what was there.  Probably she wanted to excite my curiosity, and make me ask.  But I didn’t care enough to humour her.  If the bag had been stuffed full of the most gorgeous jewels in the world, at that moment I shouldn’t have been interested in the least.  I saw Lisa give a little sidelong peep up at me, to see if I were watching; but when she found me looking entirely indifferent, she tied up the bag again and stowed it away in one of the deep pockets of her travelling cloak.