's attentions and that she might learn
to care for him more than would be wise for her happiness.

Frowning, Miss Adams waited for a moment without speaking. And yet she
looked so entirely interested and sympathetic that Polly dropped to the
ground at her feet, taking one of her slim hands in hers and pressing it
softly to her lips. For it was wonderfully kind of this famous lady to
have forgotten herself so completely that she felt as deep a concern
over Betty Ashton as though she had known her all her life.

"It was Betty herself who told me that young Count von Reuter had been
brought up with the idea that he must marry a wealthy girl. Don't you
suppose that she understands that anything else is impossible for him?"
she asked. "The family is deeply in debt and even if the young man had
the faintest knowledge of any kind of work it would be regarded as a
disgrace for him to engage in it. Besides, he has chosen his career of a
soldier, which also requires a fortune back of him. Don't you think we
might be able to make Betty see this, even supposing that she does not
already appreciate it?" Margaret Adams finally inquired.

"I don't know," Polly answered. "For you see, Margaret, it is like this.
All her life Betty Ashton has never known anything but love and
admiration. Why, when we were little children and began having beaux
that nobody knew about except just ourselves, we always expected the
admirers to be Betty's and were surprised when they were not. Oh, I
don't mean that she expected it. The Princess used to be spoiled in lots
of ways before our Camp Fire club and the change in their family
fortunes, but she never has been silly or vain. Then when we grew up
together it was pretty much the same thing. I remember how cross I once
was in Woodford because a young fellow there, who was not Betty's equal
then in any kind of way, in money or family or education, had the
presumption to feel a kind of fancy for her. But now I wish that he or
John Everett or any one of our old friends would turn up here and show
her how much nicer an American fellow is. Any old kind of an American!"
Polly ended almost viciously.

Miss Adams laughed, touching the girl's dark braids of hair and looking
closely into her emotional, sensitive face.

"Don't let us worry before it is necessary," she suggested. "But tell
me, Polly, and I am not asking you for curiosity, with all these
admirers whom you insist your beloved Betty has had, hasn't