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 roofs, and tall chimneys, to the maze below that was the city.

Imperia turned to Ambrose. Beautiful, isn't it? she asked him.

Wonderful, he replied.

It is my home, this simple place. Nothing pretentious, but still my home, and so I am glad to be here. She clung to the slender blond elegance that was known as Count Jaime. And now, perhaps, you will wish to be alone for a while, isn't it? There is much for me to do, always too much when I return from a vacation. Consider this your home, too. Mama will show you to your rooms.

Grateful for this suggestion, Ambrose followed Mama up the grand staircase and down a corridor to the apartment which had been assigned to him. There she left him, after explaining the meaning of a mysterious series of buttons by pushing which he might summon any one from a valet to a chauffeur. He found himself installed in a suite of two chambers, a sitting-room and a bedroom, off which a bath opened. His bags had already been unpacked and his toilet articles—such as they were—distributed in a neat row on the dressing-table while his clothes depended from hangers in the closet.

Ambrose sat down before an open window com-