good luck to you," said Maurice, as he led the
Englishman into the hallway. "Look me up when you have settled the
business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard."
And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing.

Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four
o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe,
and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the
silvery flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke
which wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of a
galloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice
heard the midnight bell boom forth from the sleepy spires of the
cathedral--where the princess was to be married.

One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on,
lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in the
archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were
women of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short
space. The atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic,
pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes,
and the art of playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could see
her serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the
dog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time
could never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed.

And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of
her the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service of
any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier
concerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost
laughable. They had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Maurice
had saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.

"Well, to bed," said the young diplomat. "This has been a full day."
And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, he
emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when
some one rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the
livery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard.

"Herr Carewe?"

"Yes. What's wanted?"

"Herr Hamilton--"

"Hamilton? O, yes. Go on."

"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the
hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be so
k