licious, tremulous with the weight
of actual romance.

Blake heard it, and his own heart stirred to a joyous youthful
sensation. It was so naive, so charming, so absolutely French.

"The princess!" he whispered back in just the expected tone.
"Jacqueline, is she beautiful?"

Jacqueline threw up her hands, invoked heaven with her eyes, earth with
her shrugging shoulders.

"Monsieur, she is ravishing!"

Blake's expressive answer was to put her gently aside and step toward
Max's door.

But she was after him with a little cry. "Monsieur, not yet! I must
deliver my message! The message of M. Max!"

"Of M. Max?"

"But yes, monsieur!" Her hands, her whole body expressed apology and
eager explanation. "M. Max has been called away--upon a business of much
importance. M. Max desires his profoundest, his most affectionate
excuses--and will monsieur place him under a debt never possible of
repayment by entering the _appartement_--by entertaining the princess
during his absence?"

Blake stared "In the name of Heaven--"

But Jacqueline's white hands again made free with his arm.

"Monsieur, Heaven will arrange! Heaven is bountiful in these affairs!"

"But I don't understand. He has gone upon business, you say? He never
had any business."

Jacqueline laughed and clapped her hands. "Do not be too sure, monsieur!
He is growing up, is M. Max!" She gave another little twittering laugh
of sheer delight.

"Come, monsieur! The princess is alone. It is not gallant to keep a lady
waiting!"

"But you don't understand, Jacqueline. It is impossible--impossible that
I should intrude--"

"It is no intrusion, monsieur! I have explained everything to
madame--and she expects you!" She flitted past him to the door, threw it
open and dropped him a pretty, impertinent curtsy.

"Now, monsieur!" she commanded; and Blake, half amused, half resentful,
saw nothing for it but to obey.

He stepped across the threshold; he heard Jacqueline laugh again softly
and close the door; then he stood, a prey to profound trepidation.

He stood for a moment, hesitating between flight and advance, then shame
at his weakness forced him to go forward and open the _salon_ door.

As he opened it, another change took place within him; his diffidence
forsook him, his excitement was allayed as, by a restraining hand, he
was dominated by a peculiar clarity of vision.

This accentuated keenness of observation came into action even in a
material sense; as