I have none
that are unrevealed."

"I am not so fortunate, dear. I have a great one, and now I am going
to tell it all to you."

"But--"

"No, let me do all the talking until you hear it to the end, and let me
tell it in my own way."

"All right," and he pressed her hand lovingly.

"I never knew my father, Mark," she went on, "and yet I heard of his
death only a short time ago--in Washington. His name was not
'Atheson.' He was a very great personage, no less than the Grand Duke
of Ecknor, Prince Etkar."

Mark started, but Ruth put up her hand. "You promised. Let me go on."

"My mother married my father, who then called himself Edgar Atheson, in
London. He was the younger son of the then reigning Grand Duke and had
left home for political reasons, expecting never to return. But his
father and his elder brother were both killed by a bomb a few days
after his marriage to my mother. He returned to Ecknor, and she went
with him. In six months he had married, legally but not legitimately,
a princess of the protecting kingdom. Under the laws of the kingdom
the princess was his legal mate, the Grand Duchess of Ecknor, but my
mother was his wife before God and the Church. The Grand Duke gave her
a large fortune, and she had a beautiful home near the palace.
Everyone knew and pitied her, but they respected her. The Grand Duke
soon ceased to care for his morganatic wife, but he never deserted her.
Then, a year after the court marriage, I was born. It was given out
that the Grand Duchess had also given birth to a daughter, Carlotta."

Mark patted her hand, but kept his promise of silence. Ruth went on.

"After that, the Grand Duke seemed to lose all interest in his English
wife. My mother was very unhappy and wanted to return to England. She
finally escaped, with me, in a closed carriage. My uncle met us as we
crossed the frontier, and it was only then that mother understood why
her escape had been so easy--the Grand Duke had wanted her away. She
saw England only to die heart-broken, for she had loved her husband
devotedly. My uncle kept me with him until he became a Catholic and
went to Rome to study. Then I was sent to school in Europe. Later I
came to America. But I had many friends in Europe and visited them
frequently. It was on one of these visits that I met Carlotta. She
knew, and we became fast friends, as well as sisters."

"But not full sisters," Mark said, thinking that the story was o