o break
away."

"Nonsense, Monty, why should I avoid you? We have known one another
much too long for that." But he thought he detected some contradiction
in her eyes, and he was right. The girl was afraid of him, afraid of
the sensations he awoke, afraid desperately of betrayal.

"Pettingill may appeal to you," he said, and his voice was serious,
"but you might at least be courteous to me."

"How absurd you are, Monty Brewster." The girl grew hot. "You needn't
think that your million gives you the privilege of dictating to all of
your guests."

"Peggy, how can you," he interjected.

She went on ruthlessly. "If my conduct interferes with your highness's
pleasure I can easily join the Prestons in Paris."

Suddenly Brewster remembered that Pettingill had spoken of the Prestons
and expressed a fleeting wish that he might be with them in the Latin
Quarter. "With Pettingill to follow, I suppose," he said, icily. "It
would certainly give you more privacy."

"And Mrs. Dan more opportunities," she retorted as he dropped back
toward the others.

The artist instantly took his place. The next moment he had challenged
her to a race and they were flying down the road in the moonlight.
Brewster, not to be outdone, was after them, but it was only a moment
before his horse shied violently at something black in the road. Then
he saw Peggy's horse galloping riderless. Instantly, with fear at his
throat, he had dismounted and was at the girl's side. She was not hurt,
they found, only bruised and dazed and somewhat lamed. A girth had
broken and her saddle turned. The crowd waited, silent and somewhat
awed, until the carriage with the servants came up and she was put into
it. Mrs. Dan's maid was there and Peggy insisted that she would have no
one else. But as Monty helped her in, he had whispered, "You won't go,
child, will you? How could things go on here?"

CHAPTER XXII

PRINCE AND PEASANTS

The peacefulness of fairyland was something which Brewster could not
afford to continue, and with Bertier he was soon planning to invade it,
The automobile which he was obliged to order for the mysterious
marquise put other ideas into his head. It seemed at once absolutely
necessary to give a coaching party in Italy, and as coaches of the
right kind were hard to find there, and changes of horses most
uncertain, nothing could be more simple and natural than to import
automobiles from Paris. Looking into the matter, he found that