ense, was Nikky, but tall and straight,
with a thatch of bright hair not unlike that of the Crown Prince, and
as unruly. Tall and straight, and occasionally truculent, with a narrow
rapier scar on his left cheek to tell the story of wild student days,
and with two clear young eyes that had looked out humorously at the
world until lately. But Nikky was not smiling at the world these days.

Perhaps, at the very first, he had been in love with the princess, not
the woman. It had been rather like him to fix on the unattainable and
worship it from afar. Because, for all the friendliness of their growing
intimacy, Hedwig was still a star, whose light touched him, but whose
warmth was not for him. He would have died fighting for her with a smile
on his lips. There had been times when he almost wished he might. He
used to figure out pleasant little dramas, in which, fallen on the
battlefield, his last word, uttered in all reverence, was her name. But
he had no hope of living for her, unless, of course, she should happen
to need him, which was most unlikely. He had no vanity whatever,
although in parade dress, with white gloves, he hoped he cut a decent
figure.

So she had been his star, and as cold and remote. And then, that very
morning, whether it was the new cross-saddle suit or whatever it was,
Hedwig had been thrown. Not badly--she was too expert for that. As a
matter of fact, feeling herself going, she had flung two strong young
arms around her horse's neck, and had almost succeeded in lighting on
her feet. It was not at all dramatic.

But Nikky's heart had stopped beating. He had lifted her up from where
she sat, half vexed and wholly ashamed, and carried her to a chair. That
was all. But when it was all over, and Hedwig was only a trifle wobbly
and horribly humiliated, Nikky Larisch knew the truth about himself,
knew that he was in love with the granddaughter of his King, and that
under no conceivable circumstances would he ever be able to tell her so.
Knew, then, that happiness and he had said a long farewell, and would
thereafter travel different roads.

It had stunned him. He had stood quite still and thought about it. And
Prince Ferdinand William Otto had caught him in the act of thinking; and
had stood before him and surveyed him anxiously.

"You needn't look so worried, you know," he protested. "She's not really
hurt."

Nikky came back, but slowly. He had in a few seconds already traveled a
long way along t