y to-day learned of your presence in the country.

'Agreez, Monsieur, l'assurance de mes sentiments distingues,

'CTSSSE. DE WOLFENBACH.'

'Oh, this is staggering,' cried Paul. 'What to do?' He walked
backwards and forwards, pondering his reply. 'I believe the only
excuse that will pass with Royalty is illness or death. Shall I send
word that I died suddenly this morning? Ah, well, here goes for a
thumping lie.'

And he wrote: 'Madame, I am unspeakably honoured by her Majesty's
command, and in despair that the state of my health makes it
impossible for me to obey it. I am confined to my bed by a severe
attack of bronchitis. Pray express to her Majesty my most respectful
thanks as well as my profound regret. I shall hope to be able to leave
my room at the week's end, when, if her Majesty can be prevailed upon
again to accord me an audience, I shall be infinitely grateful.'

'There!' he muttered. 'I have perjured my soul for you, and made
myself appear ridiculous into the bargain. _Bronchitis_! But--_a
demain_! Good--good Lord! if she shouldn't come?'

XIV.

She came, followed by a groom. She greeted Paul with a smile that made
his heart leap with a wild hope. Her groom led Bezigue away to the
stables.

'Thank you,' said Paul.

'For what?'

'For everything. For coming. For that smile.'

'Oh.'

They walked about the garden. 'It is lovely. The prettiest garden of
the neighbourhood,' she said. 'Show me where the irises grow, by the
pond.' And when they had arrived there, 'They do look like princesses,
don't they? Your little friend had some perceptions. Show me where you
and she used to sit down. I am tired.'

He led her into a corner of the rosery. She sank upon the turf.

'It is nice here,' she said, 'and quite shut in. One would never know
there was a house so near.'

She had taken off one of her gloves. Her soft white hand lay languidly
in her lap. Suddenly Paul seized it, and kissed it--furiously--again
and again. She yielded it. It was sweet to smell, and warm. 'My God,
how I love you, how I love you!' he murmured.

When he looked up, she was smiling. 'Oh, you are radiant! You are
divine!' he cried. And then her eyes filled with tears. 'What is it?
What is it? You are unhappy?'

'Oh, no,' she said. 'But to think--to think that after all these years
of misery, of heartbreak, it should end like this, here.'

'Here?' he questioned.

'I am glad your bronchi