antastic and prosaic statements of his
identity kept leaping into his mind. "The man with his trousers turned
up" was one of them. Yes, he had done that in order to make their
immaculate cut less noticeable; he had dressed as badly as he knew how,
and yet--she might possibly be praying for him as "that well-dressed
person." It was a ghastly thought, and he had brought all this purgatory
upon himself merely by asking for a "luxury," for something in which he
did not really believe. And then, at the thought of her deep sincerity,
his mind revolted from all these bywords and subterfuges. "Oh!" he cried
to himself, "she knows, she knows, she must know!"

And, of course, as a matter of fact she did. She knew that she had a
lover, a young man who had nicknamed himself,--clever and handsome,
evidently with time and money to spare, probably of some social
position, and with an undeniable likeness to a Prince whom she only knew
by his photographs. And for this young man, who on five or six separate
occasions had so hindered her with his attentions, she had a deep and
impulsive liking which, as it ran counter to her plan of life, she did
not choose to encourage.

But if Max could only have known he would have been comforted: she
prayed for him every day, morning and night, and taking him at his word,
though not in the least believing it, it was as "my Prince Max" that she
begged heaven to look after him. And when in her orisons that nymph
remembered him she smiled a little more than was her usual wont--for
truly he had amused her. In spite of dignified air and polished speeches
and a belief in himself that never failed, she had discerned the
stripling character of his soul; and greatly would Max have been
surprised, and perhaps also a little shocked, could he have learned that
he ranked in her mental affections as "rather a dear boy"; for it is
woman's way to claim the privilege of a motherly regard without any
seniority in age, and with a good deal of feeling that mere "mothering"
will not satisfy.

II

Another lady, as to whose movements and plans Prince Max could not yet
be indifferent, had meanwhile returned home, and he had been to see her.

The Countess Hilda von Schweniger had sent word that she had serious
things to say to him; it was only thus that he received notice of her
return. She had a tender weakness for talking seriously at intervals,
for the periodic workings of her conscience were ever open to view. But