udden, womanish curiosity: "How did you know I was
singing here to-night?"

"Olga told me. She's bitterly opposed to all that I've been doing,
but"--smiling faintly--"she has occasional spasms of compassion, when she
remembers that, after all, I'm a poor devil who's being thrust out of
paradise."

"She loves you," Diana answered simply. "I think she has loved
you--better--than I did, Max. But not more!" she added jealously. "No
one could love you more, dear."

After a pause, she asked:

"I suppose Olga told you that I know--everything?"

"Yes. I'm glad you know"--quietly. "It makes it easier for me to tell
you why I must go away--out of your life."

She leaned nearer to him, her hands on his shoulders.

"Don't go!" she whispered. "Ah, don't go!"

"I must," he said hoarsely. "Listen, beloved, and then you will see that
there is no other way. . . . I married you, believing that when Nadine
would be safely settled on the throne, I should be free to live my own
life, free to come back to England--and you. If I had not believed that,
I shouldn't have told you that I cared; I should have gone away and never
seen you again. But now--now I know that I shall _never_ be free, never
able to live in England."

He paused, gathering her a little closer into his arms.

"Everything is settled. Russia has helped, and Ruvania is ready to
welcome Nadine's return. . . . She is in Paris, now, waiting for me to
take her there. . . . It has been a long and difficult matter, and the
responsibility of Nadine's well-being in England has been immense. A
year ago, the truth as to her identity leaked out somehow--reached our
enemies' ears, and since then I've never really known an instant's peace
concerning her safety. You remember the attack which was made on her
outside the theatre?"

Diana nodded, shame-faced, remembering its ultimate outcome.

"Well, the man who shot at her was in the pay of the Republic--German
pay, actually. That yarn about the actor down on his luck was cooked up
for the papers, just to throw dust in the eyes of the public. . . . To
watch over Nadine's safety has been my work. Now the time has come when
she can go back and take her place as Grand Duchess of Ruvania. _And I
must go with her_."

"No, no. Why need you go? You'll have done your work, set her securely
on the throne. Ah, Max! don't speak of going, dear." Her voice shook
incontrollably.

"There is other work still to be don