touched. Their clasp of fingers tightened and their breath came
quickly, and for a long time they were silent. Then at last he
whispered her name, in the old foolish and inevitable way. And she
turned her face to him, and met his eyes and said "Paul," and her lips
as she said it seemed to speak a kiss. And all the earth was wrapped in
glory too overwhelming for speech.

It was only when they entered the Grand Canal and drew up by the
striped posts of the palazzo that she said: "I have those Roman people
and the Heatherfields coming to dinner. I wish I hadn't." She sighed.
"Would you care to come?"

He smiled into her eyes. "No, my Princess, not to-night. I should do
silly things. To-night I will go and talk to the moon. To-morrow, when
can I come?"

"Early. As early as you like."

And Paul went away and talked to the moon, and the next morning, his
heart tumultuous, presented himself at the palazzo. He was shown into
the stiff Italian drawing-room, with its great Venetian glass
chandelier, its heavy picture-hung walls, its Empire furniture covered
in yellow silk. Presently the door opened and she entered, girlish in
blouse and skirt, fresh as the morning. "Bon jour, Paul. I've not had
time to put on my hat, but--"

She did not end, for he strode toward her and with a little laugh of
triumph took her in his arms and kissed her. And so what had to be came
to pass.

CHAPTER XVI

"I LOVE you too much, my Sophie, to be called the Princess Zobraska's
husband."

"And I love you too much, dear, to wish to be called anything else than
Paul Savelli's wife."

That was their position, perfectly defined, perfectly understood. They
had arrived at it after many arguments and kisses and lovers'
protestations.

"Such as I am I am," cried Paul. "A waif and stray, an unknown figure
coming out of the darkness. I have nothing to give you but my love."

"Are there titles or riches on earth of equal value?"

"But I must give you more. The name Paul Savelli itself must be a title
of honour."

"It is becoming that," said the Princess. "And we can wait a little,
Paul, can't we? We are so happy like this. Ah!" she sighed. "I have
never been so happy in my life."

"Nor I," said Paul.

"And am I really the first?"

"The first. Believe it or not as you like. But it's a fact. I've told
you my life's dream. I never sank below it; and that is why perhaps it
has come true."

For once the assertion was not the eternal lie. Pa