nt me to go
away and leave you here."

"You must," she said firmly.

"Did you treat Duncombe like this?" he asked in a blind fit of jealousy.

"You have not the right to ask me such a question," she answered
coldly.

"Not the right! Not the right!" he repeated. "Who else has, then?
Haven't I watched you grow from a beautiful, capricious child into the
woman you are? Haven't I taught you, played with you, done your bidding
blindly ever since you came into your kingdom? Haven't I felt the pain
and the joy of you in my heart? Who else has a better right, then?
Duncombe, who came here, a stranger to you--or is it one of your new
friends?"

She came close to him, and laid her hand upon his shoulder.

"Don't be foolish, Andrew!" she said softly.

His whole expression changed. The bitterness left his tone.

"Ah, Phyllis!" he said. "That is more like yourself."

"And I want you," she said, "to be like your old self. You have always
been my best friend, Andrew. I hope you will always be that."

He tried to look into her face. It seemed to him that there was a little
unnecessary emphasis in her words.

"I am not a child now, you know," she continued. "I am quite old enough
to take care of myself. You must believe that, Andrew. You must go away,
and not worry about me. You will do this, please, because I ask you!"

"If I must," he said reluctantly. "I will go away, but not to worry
about you--that is impossible. You seem to be surrounded by all the
mediaeval terrors which confronted the emancipation of princesses in our
fairy books. Only a short time ago Duncombe implored me to follow his
example, and leave you and Paris alone. The detective whom I brought
with me has been shadowed ever since we left Paris. Last night he left
me for a few hours, and this morning comes a note from the hospital. He
is lying there with the back of his head beaten in--garotters, of
course, the police say, looking for plunder. How can you ask me to be
easy in my mind about you?"

She smiled reassuringly.

"No harm will come to me here, I can promise you," she said. "It is you
who run the most risk if you only knew it. Sir George Duncombe gave you
the best advice when he tried to get you to return to England."

"I cannot leave Lloyd now until he has recovered," Andrew answered.
"Tell me, Phyllis, has Duncombe found you out? Has he been here?"

"Yes," she answered. "I sent him away--as I am sending you."

"Has he ever told you," Andr