been extraordinarily kind to me,' said Prince
Aribert very quietly, after the two had sat some time in silence.

'Why? How?' she asked unaffectedly. 'We are interested in this affair
ourselves, you know. It began at our hotel--you mustn't forget that,
Prince.'

'I don't,' he said. 'I forget nothing. But I cannot help feeling that I
have led you into a strange entanglement. Why should you and Mr Racksole
be here--you who are supposed to be on a holiday!--hiding in a strange
house in a foreign country, subject to all sorts of annoyances and all
sorts of risks, simply because I am anxious to avoid scandal, to avoid
any sort of talk, in connection with my misguided nephew? It is nothing
to you that the Hereditary Prince of Posen should be liable to a public
disgrace. What will it matter to you if the throne of Posen becomes the
laughing-stock of Europe?'

'I really don't know, Prince,' Nella smiled roguishly. 'But we Americans
have, a habit of going right through with anything we have begun.'

'Ah!' he said, 'who knows how this thing will end? All our trouble, our
anxieties, our watchfulness, may come to nothing. I tell you that when I
see Eugen lying there, and think that we cannot learn his story until
he recovers, I am ready to go mad. We might be arranging things, making
matters smooth, preparing for the future, if only we knew--knew what he
can tell us. I tell you that I am ready to go mad. If anything should
happen to you, Miss Racksole, I would kill myself.'

'But why?' she questioned. 'Supposing, that is, that anything could
happen to me--which it can't.'

'Because I have dragged you into this,' he replied, gazing at her. 'It
is nothing to you. You are only being kind.'

'How do you know it is nothing to me, Prince?' she asked him quickly.

Just then the sick man made a convulsive movement, and Nella flew to the
bed and soothed him. From the head of the bed she looked over at Prince
Aribert, and he returned her bright, excited glance. She was in her
travelling-frock, with a large white Belgian apron tied over it. Large
dark circles of fatigue and sleeplessness surrounded her eyes, and to
the Prince her cheek seemed hollow and thin; her hair lay thick over
the temples, half covering the ears. Aribert gave no answer to her
query--merely gazed at her with melancholy intensity.

'I think I will go and rest,' she said at last. 'You will know all about
the medicine.'

'Sleep well,' he said, as he softly opened