eated, "I must have you do that, Sylvia. I don't care
what Hermann wants or what you want. I want it."

"Yes, but who's to do the playing and the singing?" asked Hermann.
"Isn't it a question, perhaps, for--"

Michael felt quite secure about the feelings of the other two, and
rudely interrupted.

"No," he said. "It's a question for me. When the Fatherland hears that
I am there it will no doubt ask me to play and sing instead of you two.
Lord! Fancy marrying into such a distinguished family. I burst with
pride!"

It required, then, little debate, since all three were agreed, before
Hermann was empowered with authority to make arrangements, and they
remained simultaneously talking till Mrs. Falbe, again drifting in,
announced that the bell for dinner had sounded some minutes before. She
had her finger in the last chapter of "Lady Ursula's Ordeal," and laid
it face downwards on the table to resume again at the earliest possible
moment. This opportunity was granted her when, at the close of dinner,
coffee and the evening paper came in together. This Hermann opened at
the middle page.

"Hallo!" he said. "That's horrible! The Heir Apparent of the Austrian
Emperor has been murdered at Serajevo. Servian plot, apparently."

"Oh, what a dreadful thing," said Mrs. Falbe, opening her book. "Poor
man, what had he done?"

Hermann took a cigarette, frowning.

"It may be a match--" he began.

Mrs. Falbe diverted her attention from "Lady Ursula" for a moment.

"They are on the chimney-piece, dear," she said, thinking he spoke of
material matches.

Michael felt that Hermann saw something, or conjectured something
ominous in this news, for he sat with knitted brow reading, and letting
the match burn down.

"Yes; it seems that Servian officers are implicated," he said. "And
there are materials enough already for a row between Austria and Servia
without this."

"Those tiresome Balkan States," said Mrs. Falbe, slowly immersing
herself like a diving submarine in her book. "They are always
quarrelling. Why doesn't Austria conquer them all and have done with
it?"

This simple and striking solution of the whole Balkan question was
her final contribution to the topic, for at this moment she became
completely submerged, and cut off, so to speak, from the outer world, in
the lucent depths of Lady Ursula.

Hermann glanced through the other pages, and let the paper slide to the
floor.

"What will Austria do?" he said. "Supposin