emselves hoarse there this afternoon," he groaned.

For the first time she betrayed her knowledge of coming events.

"It is amazing," she whispered, "for the writing on the wall is already
there."

CHAPTER XIX

Seated in one of the first tier boxes at the Albert Hall, in the
gorgeous but obsolete uniform of a staff officer in the Russian Imperial
Forces, Prince Karschoff, with Nigel on one side and Maggie on the
other, gazed with keen interest at the brilliant scene below and around.
The greatest city the world has ever known seemed in those days to have
entered upon an orgy of extravagance unprecedented in history. Every box
and every yard of dancing space on the floor beneath was crowded with
men and women in wonderful fancy costumes, the women bedecked with
jewels which eager merchants had brought together from every market of
the world; even the men, in their silks and velvets and ruffles,
carrying out the dominant note of wealth. It was a ball given for
charity and under royal patronage.

"All our friends seem to be here to-night," the Prince remarked,
glancing around. "I saw Naida with her father and the eternal Oscar
Immelan. Chalmers is here with an exceedingly gay party, and yonder sits
his Imperial Highness, looking very much the barbaric prince.--By the
by," he added, glancing towards Maggie, "I thought that he was not
coming?"

Maggie, who seemed a little tired, nodded quietly. It was a week or ten
days later, and an early season was now in full swing.

"He told me that he was not coming," she said. "I suppose the temptation
to wear that gorgeous raiment was too much for him."

"Apropos of that, there is one curious thing to be noted here with
regard to clothes," the Prince continued. "Amongst the men, you find
Venetian Doges, Chancellors, gallants of every age, but scarcely a
single uniform. In a way, this seems typical of the passing of the
militarism of your country. You are beginning to remind me of Venice in
the Middle Ages. There is a new type of brain dominant here, fat instead
of muscle, a citizen aristocracy instead of the lean, clear-eyed,
athletic type."

Maggie moved in her place a little irritably.

"I am tired of warnings," she declared. "I wish some one could do
something."

"It is impossible," the Prince pronounced solemnly. "Napoleon earned for
himself a greater claim to immortality when he christened the English a
nation of shopkeepers than when he won the Battle of Au