n isolation. Don't you think a man would be a monster of
selfishness to exact such sacrifices?"

"Oh, some men have excessively far-fetched and morbid notions of
honour," said she.

"Do you think the Princess, with all this brought to her attention,
would ever dream of consenting?"

"Women in love are weak--they will consent to almost anything," said
she, her dark eyes smiling for an instant into his.

Why didn't he take her in his arms? Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,
but to defer the consummation of a joy assured (observes the Persian
poet) giveth the heart a peculiar sweet excitement.

"Well," said John. "I'm glad to think she is weak; but I'll never ask my
wife to consent to anything so unpleasant. A Princess and a future
peeress, living on six hundred pounds a year! It's unheard of."

She looked at him, puzzled, incredulous.

"Oh--? Can you possibly mean--that you will--take back your condition?"

"Yes," said he, humbly. "Who am I to make conditions?"

"You will let her spend as much of her own money as she likes?" she
wondered, wide-eyed.

"As a lover of thrift, I shall deprecate extravagance," said John. "But
as a submissive husband, I shall let her do in all things as her fancy
dictates."

"Well," marvelled she, "here is a surprise--here is a volte-face
indeed."

And she looked at the city in the sky, and appeared to turn things over.

John was mysteriously chuckling.

"Haven't you your opinion," he asked, "of men who eat their words and
put their scruples in their pockets?"

"I don't understand," said she, looking wild. "There is, of course, some
joke."

"There is a joke, indeed," said he; "the joke is that I'm ten times
richer than I told you I was."

She started back, and fixed him with a glance.

"Then all that about your being poor was only humbug?" There was
reproach in her voice, I'm not sure there wasn't disappointment.

"No," said he, "it was the exact and literal truth. But I have come into
a modest competency over-night."

"I don't understand," said she.

"My own part in the story is a sufficiently inglorious one," said he.
"I'm the benefactee. Lady Blanchemain and my uncle have put their heads
together, and endowed me. I feel rather small at letting them, but it
enables me to look my affianced boldly in the money-eye."

"Oh? You are affianced? Already?" she asked gaily.

"No--not unless you are," gaily answered John.

She looked down at her ring.

VII