I have heard much conversation about her
since then, at Madame Winter's, at tea-time in the afternoon when I
bring in the tray and give cakes to visitors. They all, especially
Madame's cousin, speak of Miss Grant, and she is celebrated for her
beauty as well as for her gambling: yet your Prince looked as much at my
picture as at hers, quite as much; and the artist could have taken no
more pains with me if I had been a queen. So you see what other people
think. And as it happens, I _do_ know a great deal about this Prince."
"Nothing against him, then, I am sure," persisted Luciola, though
somewhat impressed. "Monsieur le Cure loves him, which alone proves that
he is good."
"Does Monsieur le Cure consider it good to gamble at Monte Carlo?"
inquired Nathalie, with assumed meekness.
"Of course not. Prince Giovanni would not stoop to such a pursuit."
"Oh, would he not? That is all you know of the world, here on your
mountain, dear aunt. Me, I hear everything that goes on, though I live
in the house of a cleric. Madame's cousin knows well your Prince, who,
it is true, did not gamble at first, and seemed to scorn the Casino, so
I heard from Monsieur Carleton while I poured the tea. But for some
reason he has taken to play, the Prince. He is always in the Casino. He
has refused to live in the villa at Cap Martin with his brother and
sister-in-law, who have now arrived, because he hates to be too far from
the Casino, though perhaps they may not know why.
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