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A momentary silence followed, and everybody stared at the girl, except her mother, who smiled pleasantly and looked from one to the other with the expression which mothers of prodigies often assume, and which clearly says: "I did it. Is it not perfectly wonderful?" Then Monsieur Leroy laughed, in spite of himself. "Hush, Doudou!" cried the Princess. "You are very rude!"
At all events, you do not doubt the possibility of communicating with the spirits of dead persons, do you?" "I have never examined the matter, my dear sir." "It seems to me," said Monsieur Leroy, with airy superiority, "that it is rather rash to attribute to Satan everything which you will not take the trouble to examine." "Hush, Doudou!" cried the Princess. "You are very rude!"
Doudou acts as my secretary sometimes, you know." The information seemed necessary, as Monsieur Leroy's position had been far from clear. "Baron Goldbirn was associated with Cecilia's father in some railways in South America," said the Countess, "and is her principal guardian. He will always continue to manage her fortune for her, I hope."
At the word she dropped the note as if it burnt her fingers, and called Monsieur Leroy, for she believed that influenza could be communicated in almost any way, and it was the only disease she really feared: she had a presentiment that she was to die of it. "Take that thing away, Doudou!" she cried nervously. "Pick it up with the tongs and burn it. He has the influenza!
"You must not go near him for a week, Doudou," she said when she came back at last, feeling herself comparatively safe. "But you may ask how he is by telephone every morning. I do not believe there can be any danger in that."
"Shall we?" he asked after a moment's silence, and waited anxiously for the answer. "I am afraid They will not come to-night, Doudou," said the Princess. "You have excited yourself in argument. You know that always has a bad effect." "That man irritates me," answered Monsieur Leroy, peevishly. "Why do you receive him?"
Cecilia thought him horribly vulgar and familiar, and she inwardly wondered how the Princess Anatolie could even tolerate him, not to speak of treating him affectionately and calling him "Doudou." "I supposed that you counted yourself among Signor d'Este's friends," said the young girl, frigidly. "I do, I do! Have I said anything unfriendly? I merely said that all the women fell in love with him."
"My dear Doudou!" she cried, as if suddenly remembering something, "we have quite forgotten those invitations for to-morrow! Should you mind writing them now, so that they can be sent before dinner?" Monsieur Leroy disappeared with an alacrity which suggested that the plan had been arranged beforehand. "Take Mademoiselle Palladio round the garden, Guido," said the Princess.
"It seems so funny that you should be called Doudou at your age," answered Cecilia. "Really " Monsieur Leroy looked at the Princess as if asking for protection. She laughed good-humouredly, somewhat to Lamberti's surprise. "You are very direct with my friends, my dear," she said to Cecilia, still smiling. The Countess Fortiguerra, not knowing exactly what to do, also smiled, but rather foolishly.
No one present chanced to know that she always called him Doudou when she was in a good humour. Cecilia Palladio turned her head quietly, fixed her eyes on him and laughed, deliberately, long, and very sweetly. Monsieur Leroy met her gaze for a moment, then looked away and moved uneasily on his low seat. "What are you laughing at?" he asked, in a tone of annoyance.
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