t
those days, do you? You never think, deep down in your heart, that if it
had not been for me you would still be a King?"

He laughed so cheerfully that the sound of his mirth woke both his
mother and the baby.

"What is it?" asked Mrs. Talbot, scanning the faces of her son and his
wife with a whole world of affection in her kindly eyes.

"Well, nothing to laugh about, mother," said he, "since I was just
telling Joan that the end has come for some one in Kosnovia; but----"

"Is Michael dead?" interrupted his mother, paling a little.

"Yes, mother, he is."

She bent her head in brief reverie, and when she looked up again she
seemed to be gazing at the smiling landscape. But they knew better. Her
thoughts had flown many a mile from Colorado.

"May Heaven be more merciful to him than he was to me!" she said at
last, and that was her requiem for the man to whom she had given her
best days. She forgave him; but she could not find it in her heart to
regret his loss.

When the New York papers reached Denver, the small household--whose
interest in the affairs of far off Kosnovia was little dreamed of by
their neighbors--gleaned fuller details of the tragedy that had again
overwhelmed the Delgrados. Many times did the conversation turn to the
tiny Kingdom with which their own lives had been so intimately bound up.
So far as the American press was concerned, the topic was soon
forgotten; but Alec, having obtained a Budapest journal, found that
Stampoff, Beliani, and Sergius Nesimir were taking steps to form a
Republic.

"Sometimes," said Alec during their talk that evening, "it is the
expected that happens."

"I suppose," said Joan musingly, "that the unlucky little Principality
ought to prosper under a popular Government--unless----" She paused, and
her husband was quick to interpret her thought.

"Unless they obtain the right sort of King," he cried.

"Perhaps that is impossible since you are here, dear," she said softly.

"Is that bee still buzzing in your bonnet?" he laughed. "I agree with
you, Joan; it was a pity I let go so promptly."

She lifted her startled eyes to his. "Oh, Alec!" she cried, "you don't
mean it!"

"I do, sweetheart," he said with a marked seriousness that puzzled her.
"It was sheer selfishness that drove me from Kosnovia. I honestly
believe I should have cracked up under the weight of empire; but just
fancy what a wonderful Queen you would have made!"

"Oh, don't be stupid," she crie