d are practically an exile
from your country."

"A voluntary exile," Melanie corrected.

"Voluntary only in the sense that you prefer exile to absolute
submission to the duke. There is no alternative, if you return."

Melanie was silent. Aleck lifted the hand which he held, touched it
gently with his lips and laid it back beside its fellow on Melanie's
lap. Then he rose and lifted both hands before her, half in fun and
half in earnestness, as if he were a courtier doing reverence to his
queen.

"See, your Highness, how ready I am to do you homage! Only smile on
the most devoted of your servants."

Melanie could not resist his gentle gaiety. It was as if they were two
children playing at a story. Aleck, in such a mood as this, was as
much fun as a dancing bear, and in five minutes more he had won peals
of laughter from Melanie. It was what he wanted--to brighten her
spirits. So presently he came back to the big chair, though he did not
again take her hand.

"I knew you were titled and important, Melanie, and at first I thought
that sealed my case entirely. But you seemed to forget your state,
seemed not to care so very much about it; and perhaps that made me
think it was possible for us both to forget it, or at least to ignore
it. I haven't a gold throne to give you; but you're the only woman
I've ever wanted to marry, and I wasn't going to give up the chance
until you said so."

"Do you know also that if I marry out of my rank and without the
consent of Duke Stephen, I shall forfeit all my fortune?"

"'Cut off without a cent!'" Aleck laughed, but presently paused,
embarrassed for the first time since he had begun his plea. "I, you
know, haven't millions, but there's a decent income, even for two. And
then I can always go to work and earn something," he smiled at her,
"giving information to a thirsty world about the gill-slit, as you call
it. It would be fun, earning money for you; I'd like to do it."

Melanie smiled back at him, but left her chair and wandered uneasily
about the room, as if turning a difficult matter over in her mind.
Aleck stood by, watching. Presently she returned to her chair, pushed
him gently back into his seat and dropped down beside him. Before she
spoke, she touched her fingers lightly, almost lovingly, along the blue
veins of his big hand lying on the arm of the chair. The hand turned,
like a magnet spring, and imprisoned hers.

"No, dear friend, not yet," said Mel