making an heroic attempt to appear
interested in Malcolm's enthusiastic dissertation of the future of the
oil industry. The Grand Duke rose gladly on her appearance, and handed
him over.

"I have persuaded Mr. Hay to dine with us to-night, and I have sent to
the hotel for his baggage. He is most entertaining, my little love, most
entertaining. Persuade him to talk to you about--er--oil and things,"
and he hurriedly withdrew.

The girl sat down on the seat he had vacated.

"You're a most amazing person, Mr. Hay," she smiled.

"So I have been told," said Malcolm, as he filled a glass with tea from
the samovar.

"You have also a good opinion of yourself, it seems," she said calmly.

"Why do you think I am amazing, anyway?" said he recklessly, returning
to the relationships they had established at luncheon.

"Because you have enchanted my father," she said.

She was not smiling now, and a troubled little frown gathered on her
brow.

"Please tell me your magic."

"Perhaps it is the book," he said jestingly.

"The book!" she looked up sharply. "What book?"

And then, as a light dawned on her, she rose to her feet.

"You have--you have Israel Kensky's book?" she whispered in horror.

He nodded.

"Here with you?"

"Yes, here," he slapped his pocket.

She sat down slowly and reached out her hand, and he thought it shook.

"I do not know who was the madder--Israel Kensky to give it to you or
you to take it," she said. "This is the only house in Kieff where your
life is safe, and even here----" She stopped and shook her head. "Of
course, you're safe here," she smiled, "but I wish the book were
somewhere else."

She made no further reference either to the amazing volume or to her
father, and that night, when he came down to dinner, feeling more on
level terms with royalty (though his dress-suit was four years old and
his patent shoes, good enough for such mild society functions as came
his way, looked horribly cracked and shabby), he dismissed the matter
from his mind. The dinner party was a large one. There were two bishops,
innumerable popes, several bejewelled women, an officer or two and the
inevitable duenna. He was introduced to them all, but remembered only
Colonel Malinkoff, a quiet man whom he was to meet again.

To his amazement he found that he had been seated in the place of
honour, to the right of the Grand Duke, but he derived very little
satisfaction from that distinction, since the girl wa