like so many
lollipops. Oh, but you have hurt me beyond words. I would not have
thought I could have suffered so much pain!"

That last cry wrung Wogan's heart. She turned away from him with the
tears brimming in her eyes. It was this conjecture of hers which he had
dreaded, which at all costs he must dispel.

"Do not believe it!" he exclaimed. "Think! Should I have been at so much
pains to refrain from speech, if speech was what I had intended?"

"How should I know but what that concealment was part of the gallantry,
a necessary preface to the pretty speeches?"

"Should I have urged your rescue on the King had I believed you what you
will have it that I did,--a mere witless girl to be pampered with
follies?"

"Then you admit," she cried, "you _urged_ the King."

"Should I have travelled over Europe to search for a wife and lit on
you? Should I have ridden to Ohlau and pestered your father till he
yielded? Should I have ridden across Europe to Strasbourg? Should I have
endangered my friends in the rush to Innspruck? No, no, no! From first
to last you were the chosen woman."

The vehemence and fire of sincerity with which he spoke had its effect
on her. She turned again towards him with a gleam of hopefulness in her
face, but midway in the turn she stopped.

"You spoke to me words which I have not forgotten," she said doubtfully.
"You said the King had need of me. I will be frank, hoping that you will
match my frankness. On that morning when we climbed down the gorge, and
ever since I cheered myself with that one thought. The King had need of
me."

"Never was truer word spoken," said Wogan, stoutly.

"Then why is the King in Spain?"

They had come back to the first question. Wogan had no new answer to it.
He said,--

"I do not know."

For a moment or two Clementina searched his eyes. It seemed in the end
that she was satisfied he spoke the truth. For she said in a voice of
greater gentleness,--

"Then I will acquaint you. Will you walk with me for half a mile?"

Wogan bowed, and followed her out of the garden. He could not think
whither she was leading him, or for what purpose. She walked without a
word to him, he followed without a question, and so pacing with much
dignity they came to the steps of a great house. Then Clementina halted.

"Sir," said she, "can you put a name to the house?"

"Upon my word, your Highness, I cannot."

"It is the Caprara Palace," said she, suddenly, and suddenly she b