member crossing with her. She was in deep mourning--in the summer of
1908. She never spoke to anyone on board, and it was about eighteen
months after that I was presented to her in Paris. She gets prettier
every day."

Lord Fordyce felt this was true.

"So she could be free if she fancied anyone, you think?" he hazarded
casually, as though his interest in the subject had waned--and when Mr.
Beaton had answered, "Yes--rather," Lord Fordyce got up and sauntered
off toward bed.

"One has to be up so early in the morning, here," he remarked agreeably.
"See you to-morrow at the Schlossbrunn?--Good-night!"

CHAPTER VII

After this, for several days Mrs. Howard made it rather difficult for
Lord Fordyce to speak to her alone, although he saw her every day, and
at every meal, and each hour grew more enamored. She, for her part, was
certainly growing to like him. He soothed her; his intelligence was
highly trained, and he was courteous and gentle and sympathetic--but for
some reason which she could not explain, she had no wish to precipitate
matters. Her mind was quite without any definite desire or
determination, but, being a woman, she was perfectly aware that Henry
was falling in love with her. A number of other men had done so before,
and had then at once begun to be uninteresting in her eyes. It was as if
she were numb to the attraction of men--but this one had qualities which
appealed to her. Her own countrymen were never cultivated enough in
literature, and were too absorbed in stocks and shares to be able to
take flights of sentiment and imagination with her. Lord Fordyce
understood in a second--and they could discuss any subject with a
refined subtlety which enchanted her.

Henry had not spent his life maneuvring love affairs with women, and
was not very clever at manipulating circumstance. He fretted and fumed
at not getting his desired tete-a-tete, but with all the will was too
hedged in by conventionality and a sense of politeness to force matters,
as his friend, Michael Arranstoun, would have done with high-handed
unconcern. Thus, his cure at Carlsbad was drawing to a close before he
again spent an afternoon quite alone with Sabine Howard. They had gone
to the Aberg to tea, and the Princess had expressed herself too tired to
walk back, and had got into the waiting carriage, making Cranley Beaton
accompany her. She was not in a perfectly amiable temper. Lord Fordyce
attracted her strongly, and it was pl