breakfast of the
Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.

"We have been anticipating your visit, Prince," Mr. Sabin remarked, with
grim courtesy. "Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?"

"I thank you, no," the Prince answered. "I seldom take anything
before lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your
permission I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can
now talk undisturbed."

Mr. Sabin bowed.

"You will find me," he said, "an excellent listener."

The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon
Lucille, who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What
other woman in the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus
in the slanting sunlight and remain beautiful?

"I will ask you to believe," the Prince said slowly, "how sincerely
I regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so
touching. Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary
that she returns to Dorset House this morning."

"You will oblige me," Mr. Sabin remarked, "by remembering that my wife
is the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her."

The Prince spread out his hands--a deprecating gesture.

"Alas!" he said, "for the present it is not possible. Until the little
affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears
in her own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B.
Peterson."

"That little affair," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is, I presume, the matter
which you have come to explain to me."

The Prince smiled and shook his head.

"Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your
rights to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything
which Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim
upon her comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or
deny. And in pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to
tell you that your presence at Dorset House within the next hour is
demanded."

Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
little grimace.

"It is a comedy," she murmured. "After all, it is a comedy!"

Mr. Sabin