sterlitz. If the
Englishman of to-day saw his material prosperity slipping away from him,
then indeed he would be nervous and restless, ready to lean towards
every wind that blew, to listen to every disquieting rumour. To-day his
bank balance is prodigious, and all's well with the world.--How
wonderfully Prince Shan lives up to his part to-night!"

They looked across towards the opposite box, whose single occupant, in
the bright green robes of a mandarin, sat looking down upon the gay
throng with an absolutely immovable expression. There was something
almost regal about his air of detachment, his solitude amidst such a gay
scene.

"There is one of the strangest and most consistent figures in history,"
Karschoff, who was in a talkative frame of mind, went on reflectively.
"I honestly believe that Prince Shan considers himself to be of
celestial descent, to carry in his person the honour of countless
generations of Manchus. He has no intimates. Even Immelan usually has to
seek an audience. What his pleasures may be, who knows?--because
everything that happens with him happens behind closed walls. To-night,
the door of his box is guarded as though he were more than royalty. No
one is allowed to enter unless he has special permission."

"There is some one entering now," Maggie pointed out, "for the first
time. Watch!"

La Belle Nita stood for a moment in the front of the box. She was
dressed in the gala costume of a Chinese lady, in a cherry-coloured robe
with wide sleeves, her hair, with its many jewelled ornaments, like a
black pool of night, her face ghastly white with a superabundance of
powder. Prince Shan turned his head slightly towards her, and though no
muscle of his face moved, it was obvious that her coming was unwelcome.
She began to talk. He listened with the face of a sphinx. Presently she
drew back into the shadows of the box. She had thrown herself into a
chair, and her face was hidden.

"La Belle Nita has made a mistake," Maggie observed. "His Serene
Highness evidently had no wish to be disturbed."

Karschoff's eyes rested upon the figure in green silk, and they were
filled with an unwilling admiration.

"That man is magnificent," he declared. "Watch his face now that he is
speaking. Not a muscle moves, not a flash in his eyes, yet one has the
fancy that he is saying terrible things."

It was obvious, a moment later, that La Belle Nita had left the box.
Maggie sprang up. Her colour was a little he