d; but one never knows."

Lady Grace bent towards Sir Charles, who was sitting by her side.

"I can never understand the Prince," she murmured. "Always he seems as
though he took life so earnestly. He has a look upon his face which I
never see in the faces of any of you other young men."

"He is a bit on the serious side," Sir Charles admitted.

"It isn't only that," she continued. "He reminds me of that man whom we
all used to go and hear preach at the Oratory. He was the same in
the pulpit and when one saw him in the street. His eyes seemed to see
through one; he seemed to be living in a world of his own."

"He was a religious Johnny, of course," Sir Charles remarked. "They do
walk about with their heads in the air."

Lady Grace smiled.

"Perhaps it is religion with the Prince," she said,--"religion of a
sort."

"I tell you what I do think," Sir Charles murmured. "I think his
pretence at having a good time over here is all a bluff. He doesn't
really cotton to us, you know. Don't see how he could. He's never
touched a polo stick in his life, knows nothing about cricket, is
indifferent to games, and doesn't even understand the meaning of the
word 'Sportsman.' There's no place in this country for a man like that."

Lady Grace nodded.

"I think," she said, "that his visit to Europe and his stay amongst
us is, after all, in the nature of a pilgrimage. I suppose he wants to
carry back some of our civilization to his own people."

Penelope, who overheard, laughed softly and leaned across the table.

"I fancy," she murmured, "that the person you are speaking of would not
look at it in quite the same light."

"Has any one seen the evening paper?" the Duchess asked. "It is there
any more news about that extraordinary murder?"

"Nothing fresh in the early editions," Sir Charles answered.

"I think," the Duchess declared, "that it is perfectly scandalous. Our
police system must be in a disgraceful state. Tell me, Prince,--could
anything like that happen in your country?"

"Without doubt," the Prince answered, "life moves very much in the East
as with you here. Only with us," he added a little thoughtfully, "there
is a difference, a difference of which one is reminded at a time like
this, when one reads your newspapers and hears the conversation of one's
friends."

"Tell us what you mean?" Penelope asked quickly.

He looked at her as one might have looked at a child,--kindly, even
tolerantly. He was scarcely