ords almost jumbled together in her haste. "We must talk before any one
comes. Will any one come?"

"No, no," Marie soothed her. "Mrs. Winter is out. She won't be back till
four. It's only a little after three."

The Princess thrust her arm through her muff so that she could take both
Mary's hands. She pressed them tightly, her fingers jerking as if by
mechanism. "I've come--I've got to throw myself on your mercy," she
said.

"Don't," Mary implored, "use such words to me. Oh, Marie, how
strange--how strange everything is! The night before I left the convent,
Peter--dear Peter, who loves you too, always--said that perhaps my
dreams meant that you thought of me sometimes--that we might meet. Then
I didn't expect to come here. She told me not to come. But she said,
'Anything can happen at Monte Carlo.'"

"Anything can happen anywhere," the Princess answered in a muffled
voice. "It is a terrible world. It's been a terrible world for me since
I saw you. And now--just when it's turned into heaven, you can send me
down to hell."

"It kills me to hear you talk so," Mary said, tears rising in her eyes,
and falling slowly. "_I!_ Why, Marie dearest, didn't you just hear me
say I'd rather die than hurt you? I don't know what you mean."

"Do you understand that I'm married to the brother of the man you're
engaged to marry?"

"Why--yes. You told me that you--that you're the Princess Della Robbia."

"Well, my husband _doesn't know_. Nobody in my life now, knows anything
about--the part that came before. Nobody must know. I'd kill myself
rather than have Angelo find out, or even suspect. He thinks I----" She
stopped, and choked. "He thinks I am----" The sob would come. She broke
down, crying bitterly. "Oh, Mary, I love him so. I worship him. He
thinks I'm everything sweet and good and innocent, that I'd give my soul
to be, for his sake. And now you've come----"

"You don't think I'll tell!"

"Not if you say you won't. But I didn't know. You were always so good.
You might have thought it your duty. Mary--you won't tell Vanno? I
couldn't bear it!"

"I won't tell Vanno, or any one at all."

"You're sure--_sure_ you won't let anything drop, by mistake?"

"Explain to me exactly what you want me to do," Mary said, "and I'll do
it. Are we to have been strangers to each other till to-day--is that
it?"

"Yes, that's the best thing: less complicated. It will save telling
lies."

"I should hate to tell lies," said Mary.

"Yo