nothing. But
I've got them!" he cried exultingly, holding out clenched fists. "By
God, darling, I've got them! They'll listen to me now!"

She looked at him and the sudden tears came. "Thank God," she said, "I
can hear you talk like that at last."

He escorted her down the stone stairs and through the lobby to her car,
and they were objects of many admiring eyes. When they reached it she
said, with a humorous curl of the lip, "Veux-tu m'epouser maintenant?"

"Wait, only wait," said he. "These are only fireworks. Very soon we'll
get to the real thing."

"We shall, I promise you," she replied enigmatically; and she drove off.

One morning, a fortnight later, she rang him up. "You're coming to dine
with me on Friday, as usual, aren't you?"

"Of course," said he. "Why do you ask?"

"Just to make sure. And yes--also--to tell you not to come till
half-past eight."

She rang off. Paul thought no more of the matter. Ever since he had
taken his seat in the House he had dined with her alone every Friday
evening. It was their undisturbed hour of intimacy and gladness in the
busy week. Otherwise they rarely met, for Paul was a pariah in her
social world.

On the Friday in question his taxi drew up before an unusual-looking
house in Berkeley Square. An awning projected from the front door and a
strip of carpet ran across the pavement. At the sound of the taxi, the
door opened and revealed the familiar figures of the Princess's footmen
in their state livery. He entered, somewhat dazed.

"Her Highness has a party?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. A very large dinner party."

Paul passed his hand over his forehead. What did it mean? "This is
Friday, isn't it?"

"Of course, sir."

Paul grew angry. It was a woman's trap to force him on society. For a
moment he struggled with the temptation to walk away after telling the
servant that it was a mistake and that he had not been invited. At
once, however, came realization of social outrage. He surrendered hat
and coat and let himself be announced. The noise of thirty voices
struck his ear as he entered the great drawing-room. He was confusedly
aware of a glitter of jewels, and bare arms and shoulders and the black
and white of men. But radiant in the middle of the room stood his
Princess, with a tiara of diamonds on her head, and beside her stood a
youngish man whose face seemed oddly familiar.

Paul advanced, kissed her hand.

She laughed gaily. "You are late, Paul."

"You said