the Reigning Prince."

"Have you ever lived there?"

"I have stayed there," said the Baroness. Acton was silent; he looked a
while at the uncastled landscape before him. "It is the first time you
have ever asked me about Silberstadt," she said. "I should think you
would want to know about my marriage; it must seem to you very strange."

Acton looked at her a moment. "Now you would n't like me to say that!"

"You Americans have such odd ways!" the Baroness declared. "You never
ask anything outright; there seem to be so many things you can't talk
about."

"We Americans are very polite," said Acton, whose national consciousness
had been complicated by a residence in foreign lands, and who yet
disliked to hear Americans abused. "We don't like to tread upon
people's toes," he said. "But I should like very much to hear about your
marriage. Now tell me how it came about."

"The Prince fell in love with me," replied the Baroness simply. "He
pressed his suit very hard. At first he did n't wish me to marry him;
on the contrary. But on that basis I refused to listen to him. So he
offered me marriage--in so far as he might. I was young, and I confess
I was rather flattered. But if it were to be done again now, I certainly
should not accept him."

"How long ago was this?" asked Acton.

"Oh--several years," said Eugenia. "You should never ask a woman for
dates."

"Why, I should think that when a woman was relating history".... Acton
answered. "And now he wants to break it off?"

"They want him to make a political marriage. It is his brother's idea.
His brother is very clever."

"They must be a precious pair!" cried Robert Acton.

The Baroness gave a little philosophic shrug. "Que voulez-vous? They
are princes. They think they are treating me very well. Silberstadt is
a perfectly despotic little state, and the Reigning Prince may annul the
marriage by a stroke of his pen. But he has promised me, nevertheless,
not to do so without my formal consent."

"And this you have refused?"

"Hitherto. It is an indignity, and I have wished at least to make it
difficult for them. But I have a little document in my writing-desk
which I have only to sign and send back to the Prince."

"Then it will be all over?"

The Baroness lifted her hand, and dropped it again. "Of course I shall
keep my title; at least, I shall be at liberty to keep it if I choose.
And I suppose I shall keep it. One must have a name. And I shall keep my
pens