or the society of any self-respecting woman.
She was living in misery when I was bidden to the Court of Waldenburg. I
was made the more welcome there, perhaps, because I myself am a
descendant of an ancient and honourable French family. I met the
Princess Isobel often, and we grew to love each other. Of the struggle
which ensued between her sense of duty and my persuasions I say nothing.
She was a highly sensitive and very intellectual woman, and she had a
profound conviction of the unalienable right of a woman to live out her
life to its fullest capacity, to gather into it to the full all that is
best and greatest. Her position at Waldenburg was impossible. I proved
it to her. I prevailed. But----"

He paused, and held up his hand.

"The whole story of our elopement was a lie. There was no elopement. The
Princess Isobel left her husband accompanied only by a maid and a
lady-in-waiting. They lived quietly in Paris until her husband procured
his divorce. Then we were married, but until then we had not met since
our parting at Waldenburg. Isobel's mother was ever a pure and holy
woman. Let Isobel know that. Let her know that the greatest and most
wonderful sacrifice a woman ever made was surely hers--when she denied
herself her own daughter lest the merest shadow of shame should rest
upon her in later years. It is for that same reason that I myself have
kept away from Isobel. I have watched over her always, but at a
distance. That is why I am content to stand aside even now and yield up
my place to strangers."

It was Arthur again who questioned him.

"Mr. Feurgeres," he said, "you have told us wonderful things about
Isobel. You have told us wonderful things about the past, but you have
not spoken at all about the future. Is it your wish that she returns to
Waldenburg, or is she to remain Isobel de Sorrens?"

Feurgeres turned his head and looked searchingly at Arthur. The boy's
face was flushed with excitement. He made no effort to conceal his great
interest. Feurgeres looked at him steadfastly, and it was long before he
spoke.

"You are asking me," he said slowly, "the very question which I have
been asking myself for a long time. Isobel's proper place is at
Waldenburg, and yet there are many and grave reasons why I dread her
going there. The King is an old man, the Court is ruled by the
Archduchess, a hard, unscrupulous woman. Already she has schemed to get
the child into her power. I dread the thought of her the