eep Sir Rupert waiting.'

'I shall see you again--when?' she asked eagerly.

'Whenever you wish,' he answered. Then they shook hands, and Soame
Rivers took her away.

Several ladies remarked that night that really Helena Langley was going
quite beyond all bounds, and was overdoing her unconventionality quite
too shockingly. She was actually throwing herself right at Mr. Ericson's
head. Of course Mr. Ericson would not think of marrying a chit like
that. He was quite old enough to be her father.

One or two stout dowagers shook their heads sagaciously, and remarked
that Sir Rupert had a great deal of money, and that a large fortune got
with a wife might come in very handy for the projects of a dethroned
Dictator. 'And men are all so vain, my dear,' remarked one to another.
'Mr. Ericson doesn't look vain,' the other said meditatively. 'They are
all alike, my dear,' rejoined the one. And so the matter was settled--or
left unsettled.

Meanwhile the Dictator went home, and began to look over maps and charts
of Gloria. He buried himself in some plans of street improvement,
including a new and splendid opera house, of which he had actually laid
the foundation before the crash came.

CHAPTER VII

THE PRINCE AND CLAUDIO

Why did the Dictator bury himself in his maps and his plans and his
improvements in the street architecture of a city which in all
probability he was never to see more?

For one reason. Because his mind was on something else to-night, and he
did not feel as if he were acting with full fidelity to the cause of
Gloria if he allowed any subject to come even for an hour too directly
between him and that. Little as he permitted himself to put on the airs
of a patriot and philanthropist--much as he would have hated to exhibit
himself or be regarded as a professional patriot--yet the devotion to
that cause which he had himself created--the cause of a regenerated
Gloria--was deep down in his very heart. Gloria and her future were his
day-dream--his idol, his hobby, or his craze, if you like; he had long
been possessed by the thought of a redeemed and regenerated Gloria.
To-night his mind had been thrown for a moment off the track--and it was
therefore that he pulled out his maps and was endeavouring to get on to
the track again.

But he could not help thinking of Helena Langley. The girl embarrassed
him--bewildered him. Her upturned eyes came between him and his maps.
Her frank homage was just like t