in his heart
told him that Paul Verdayne did _not_ forget! And somehow the older man
felt confident that the Boy knew, and was strangely comforted by the
silent sympathy between them which both felt, but neither could express.

"Your mother, Boy, was the noblest and most beautiful woman that ever
graced a throne. Everyone who knew her must have said that! You are very
like her, Paul--not in appearance, a mistake of Fate to be everlastingly
deplored, but in spirit you are her living counterpart. Ah! you have a
great example to live up to, Boy, in attempting to follow her footsteps!
There was never a queen like her--never!"

The young prince followed with the deepest absorption the words of the
man who had known his mother, hanging upon the story with the breathless
interest of a child in some fairy tale.

"She knew life as it is given few women to know it. She was not more
than thirty-five, I think, when you were born, but she had crowded into
those years more knowledge of the world, in all its myriad phases, than
others seem to absorb during their allotted three score and ten. And her
knowledge was not of the world alone, but of the heart. She was full of
ideals of advancement, of growth, of doing and being something worthy
the greatest endeavor, exerting every hope and ambition to the utmost
for the future splendor of her kingdom--your kingdom now. How she loved
you!--what splendid achievements she expected of you! how she prayed
that you might be grand, and great, and true!"

"Did you always know her?"

"Always?--no. Only for three weeks, Boy!"

"Three weeks!--three little weeks! How strange, then, that you should
have learned so much about her in that short space of time! She must
indeed have made a strong impression upon you!"

"Impression, you say? Boy, all that I am or ever expect to become--all
that I know or ever expect to learn--all that I have done or ever expect
to accomplish--I owe to your mother. She was the one inspiration of my
life. Until I knew her, I was a nonentity. It was she who awakened
me--who taught me how to live! Three weeks! Child! child!--"

He caught himself sharply and bit his lip, forcing back the impetuous
words he had not meant to say. The silence of years still shrouded those
mysterious three weeks, and the time had not yet come when that silence
could be broken. What had he said? What possessed the Boy to-day to
cling so persistently to this hitherto forbidden subject?

"Wher