hich were his own pets. Suddenly she broke
into a fit of laughter. She looked up into his grave face, her eyes
imploring him for sympathy.

"I feel so like a precocious child," she exclaimed, "who has been put in
her place! No one has ever turned me inside out so skilfully, has made
me feel such an ignorant little donkey. Do you know, I half like you for
it, Prince Shan, and half detest you."

He seemed suddenly to become younger, to meet her upon her own ground.

"Please do not be angry," he begged. "Please do not think that I look
upon you at all as a little child. You have brought something into my
life for which I have searched and hoped, and I am deeply grateful to
you. Shall I--go on?"

She caught at his wrist.

"Please not," she begged breathlessly. "Be content with this moment."

They had paused by the side of an arbour. She suddenly felt the
pressure of his fingers upon her hand.

"I shall be content," he said, in a low tone, the passion of which
seemed to throw her senses into complete turmoil, "only when I have what
my heart desires. But I will wait."

They walked almost into the midst of a little crowd of acquaintances.
Maggie was herself again immediately. She chattered away with Chalmers,
and led him off to see a wonderful yellow rose. He watched her
curiously. When they found themselves isolated at the end of the garden
path, he ignored for a moment their mission.

"Any luck, Lady Maggie?" he asked.

She looked up at him, and to his amazement her eyes were swimming.

"I think that Prince Shan will be on our side," she replied.

CHAPTER XVII

Monsieur Felix Senn, the distinguished Frenchman who had just acquitted
himself of the special mission which had brought him to London, was a
little loath to depart from the historical chamber in Downing Street.
Diplomatically, the interview was over. The Prime Minister, however, on
this occasion, was courteous, even affable. There seemed no reason for
his visitor to hurry away.

"You will accept, I trust, sir," the latter begged, "this assurance of
my extreme regret at the present unfortunate condition of affairs. I am
one of those who threw his hat into the air on the boulevards in August,
1914, when the news came that your great country had decided to fulfil
her unwritten promises and in the cause of honour had declared war
against Germany. I have never forgotten that moment, sir, even in those
months and years of misunderstandings which fo