‘Madame Bleuet!’ he said excitedly. ‘Madame Bleuet! I never forget a face, never!’

11

The Restaurant des Fleurs was having a Gala evening and all the most distinguished visitors to Monte Carlo were seated in its big dining room, the windows of which overlooked the sea. There were flowers everywhere, flowers artistically arranged on every table, flowers decorating the walls and hanging in twisted garlands from the ceiling.

Every woman had been given a bouquet on arrival, a small, beautifully arranged posy of scented flowers set in a holder of white perforated paper, and each male guest had received a buttonhole. These, combined with the variegated colours of the ladies’ dresses and jewels, their sequin-sprinkled fans and shimmering head dresses, produced a scintillating effect of colour and of gaiety.

On one side of the Restaurant there was a garden where the guests could wander and cool themselves after dancing.

This, too, had been turned into a fairyland of enchantment. Coloured Chinese lanterns hung from every tree, flickering candle lights in coloured glass containers decorated the edges of the paths. It was all very seductive, and at the end of a melodious waltz many couples disappeared from the crowded Restaurant out into the soft shadows of the garden.

Mistral, sitting alone with Aunt Emilie, wished she had someone to dance with, someone who would take her into the garden so that she could see closer the wonderland of lanterns and fairy lights and not have only to guess at their beauty from a table inside the Restaurant.

Everyone she knew by sight in Monte Carlo was present tonight, and the habitués of the Casino as well as those staying at the Hotel seemed to have moved over in a body.

Even the old Countess Kisselev whom Mistral had helped to her carriage that first night in the Casino and who had distressed her so unnecessarily by her tears was with a party of young people.

Sir Robert was also in the Restaurant, but his table was a long way from Mistral’s and only occasionally could she catch a glimpse of his profile. He was with Lady Violet, of course, who was wearing a striking gown of mauve crepeline trimmed with sprays of ivy. Prince Nikolai was entertaining a dozen friends at the most important table in the room, and not far from him was the Rajah of Jehangar. The Rajah was with two of his own countrymen and Mistral wondered why he was not accompanied by the pretty lady to whom she had spoken in the Cloakroom of the Casino the night before.

She had looked forward to seeing Stella again, and at the same time had been extremely apprehensive as to what Aunt Emilie would say when she bowed and smiled, as she had every intention of doing. She had been ready to defend her reasons for acknowledging an acquaintance she had made in so unconventional a manner, and was strangely disappointed that the necessity did not arise.