The Title Market | Page 2

Princess Sansevero sat up in bed. Her maid placed the
coffee tray before her, and wrapped her quickly in the dressing-gown.
The plain woolen wrapper had looked ugly enough in the maid's hands,
but its drab color and fox fur so toned in with the red-gold hair and
creamy skin of its wearer that an artist, could he have beheld the picture,
would have been filled with delight. It would not in the least have
mattered to him that there was a chip in the cup into which she poured
her coffee, nor that the linen napkin was darned in three places. The
silver breakfast service belonged to a time when such things were
chiseled only for great personages and by master craftsmen. That it was

battered through several centuries of constant handling rather enhanced
than diminished its value. Of the same antiquity was the bed--seven
feet wide, its four posts elaborately carved with fruits and flowers, and
with cupids grouped in the corners of the framework supporting a dome
of crimson damask that matched the hangings. What difference could it
make to the artist that the springless mattress was as hard as a rock, and
lumpy as a ploughed field? With painted walls and vaulted ceilings that
were the apotheosis of luxury, what did it matter that the raw chill from
their stone surface penetrated to the very marrow of her Exalted
Excellency's bones? Unfortunately, however, it was she who had to
occupy the apartment and to her it did matter very much, for her
American blood never had grown used to the chill of unheated rooms.
"I think I can heat the bathroom sufficiently for Excellency's bath,"
ventured the maid.
The princess shivered at the mere suggestion. She knew only too well
the feeling of the water in a room that was like an unheated cellar in the
rainy season of late autumn. "No, no!" she exclaimed, "fill me the little
tub, in my sitting-room."
[Illustration: "AS SHE SPOKE, A DOOR OPENED OPPOSITE THE
ONE THROUGH WHICH THE MAID HAD ENTERED, AND THE
PRINCE CAME IN"]
As she spoke, a door opened opposite the one through which the maid
had entered, and the prince came in. A fresh color glowed under his
olive skin, his hair was brushed until it was as polished as his nails;
also he was shaved, but here his toilet for the day ended. The open "V"
of his dressing-gown (his was made of a costly material, quite in
contrast to the one his wife wore) showed his throat; bare ankles were
visible above his slippers. With the raillery of a boy he cried:
"Can it really be possible that you are cold! No wonder they call yours
the nation of ice water! I know that is what you have in your veins!"
With a spring he threw himself full length across the bed.
"Sandro, be careful! See what you are doing! You have spilled the

coffee."
"Oh, that's nothing!" he said gaily; "it will wash out."
"On the contrary, it is a great deal. It makes unnecessary laundry and
uses up the linen--we can't get any more, you know."
At once his gay humor changed to sulkiness. "Va bene, va bene! let us
drop that subject."
Immediately the princess softened, as though she had unthinkingly hurt
him, "I did not mean it as a complaint; but you know, dear, we do have
to be careful."
But the prince stared moodily at his finger-nails.
She began a new topic cheerfully. "I hope to get a letter from Nina
to-day; there has been time for an answer."
Sansevero had been quite interested in the idea of a possible visit from
Nina Randolph, his wife's niece, a much exploited American heiress.
But now he paid no attention. He still stared at his nails. The princess
scrutinized his face as though in the habit of reading its expression, and
at last she said gently:
"What have you in mind, dear? Tell me--come, out with it, I see quite
well there is something."
For answer he sat up, took a cigarette from his pocket, put it between
his lips, searched in both pockets for a match, and, failing to find one,
sat with the unlighted cigarette between his lips, sulkier than ever.
He felt her looking at him, and swayed his shoulders exactly as though
some one were trying to hold him. "Really, Leonora," he burst out,
"this question of money all the time is far from pleasant!"
A helpless, frightened look came into her face. It grew suddenly
pinched; instinctively she put her hand over her heart.

"I have not mentioned money." She made an effort to speak lightly, but
there was a vibration in the tone. Then, as though gathering her strength
together, she made a direct demand:
"Alessandro,