, but with tired lines under her
full dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.

"Reginald Brott again, I suppose," she remarked curtly. "I wish the man
had never existed."

"That is a very cruel speech, Lucille," the Prince said, with a
languishing glance towards her, "for if it had not been for Brott we
should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion."

"Then more heartily than ever," Lucille declared, "I wish the man had
never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
summons was a welcome one."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I shall never, be able to believe," he said, "that the Countess
Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small American
town--without society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached
altogether from the whole civilized world."

"Which only goes to prove, Prince," Lucille remarked contemptuously,
"that you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence
Lenox would compare very favourably with--say Homburg, and for
companionship you forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did
not prefer the company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the
cosmopolitan throng we call society."

"It sounds idyllic, but very gauche," Lady Carey remarked drily. "In
effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?"

"I wish he were," she answered, looking lazily out of the window.

He bent over her.

"Why?"

"I would persuade him to send me home again," she answered coldly.

The Duchess looked up from her knitting. "Your husband has saved you the
journey," she remarked, "even if you were able to work upon the Prince's
good nature to such an extent."

Lucille started round eagerly.

"What do you mean?" she cried.

"Your husband is in London," the Duchess answered.

Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with
pale cheeks and malevolent expression.

"Come, Prince," she cried mockingly, "it was only a week ago that you
assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it."

Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.

"My dear Countess," she said firmly, "I beg that you will listen to me
carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I belie