_bourgeoise_ for its Joans of Arc.
But then your men are ungallantly self-sufficient. In Russia," the
Prince shrugged his shoulders, "we send women to Siberia--or decorate
them with the Order of St. Katherine."

"You actually shame me, Prince Koltsoff. We are different here; even
our suffragettes would by no means allow devotion to their cause to
carry them to jail; and as for influencing statesmen, or setting their
plans at naught--" she shook her head--"why, I do not even know who
they are. They are not in our set," laughing. "Really, we are pretty
much butterflies from your--from any--viewpoint, are n't we? But after
all, why?"

"Ah, why?" He turned to her suddenly. "Do you love your country, Miss
Wellington?"

"What an absurd question! Of course I do."

"Easily answered," replied the Prince, "but think a moment. I said
_love_. That love which inspired your women to send their sons and
husbands to die for their country in your Civil War; the love that
exalted Charlotte Corday. Have you breathed the quicker when you saw
your flag in foreign lands?" He looked at her strangely. "Would you
loathe the man you loved if you learnt he had injured your country?
Think, Miss Wellington."

"Your fervor renders it quite impossible for me to think; if it will
satisfy you I will say I don't believe I begin to know what patriotism
is. Yet I would not have you think I am altogether shallow. Sir
Clarence Pembroke has praised my grasp of British affairs. I have
always regarded that as quite a compliment."

"You have reason. You know, we know, that the American woman who would
move in the tense affairs of the world must find her opportunity in
Europe. It does not exist here."

"And never can exist, in a republic, I imagine," said the girl, "at
least in a republic constituted as ours is."

"No, surely not. By-the-bye, who is your Secretary of the Navy? Your
Attorney-General?"

"Help!" cried the girl in mock despair. "Really, Prince Koltsoff, I
must ask you to consider your demonstration of my unfitness to even
consider myself an American complete. Further humiliation is
unnecessary. At least I suppose I should feel humiliated. But
somehow, I 'm not. That's the pitiable part of it."

"And yet, Miss Wellington, have you ever considered what would lie
before you with your,--pardon me,--your beauty and your wit, in Europe?"

"No, I never have," said Anne not quite truthfully. "Please, Prince
Koltsoff,