e woodcarver and
his wife, and the beautiful Nadine, had vanished with the shadows of the
night.

VI.--NADINE: THE PRINCESS.

I.

WHICHELLO TOWERS.

It was between the lights. I was looking down the dingy street from
behind the curtains of my little window at the postman who was working
his way slowly from side to side delivering his messages of hope and
fear, and was wondering whether I was among those to whom he bore
tidings of joy or sorrow. I had few correspondents, and no expectations,
and so it was with surprise that I saw him ultimately turn in at our
little garden gate and place a letter in our box.

I was not long in breaking the seal, and it was with real delight and
surprise that I discovered that it was from my old schoolfellow, the
generous and sometimes extravagant Maura. It ran thus:

"WHICHELLO TOWERS,
_October 3rd._

"MY DEAR ABSURD LITTLE GLORIA,--

"Why have you hidden away from your friends so long? Was it
pride, self-styled dignity? Never mind, I have found you
out at last, and I want you to join our house-party here.
We have some interesting people with us of whom you can
make pencil sketches and pen pictures (they call them
cameos or thumbnails, do they not?). Amongst them are the
beautiful Princess Milontine, who wrote, 'Over the
Steppes,' and the famous Russian General, Loris Trakoff.

"The change will do you good. Name the day and time of your
arrival, and I will meet you at the station. There are
surprises in store for you, but you must come if you would
realise them.

"Your affectionate MAURA."

I put by the missive, and meditated over the pros and cons. My wardrobe
would need replenishing, and I had none too much money to spend. I could
manage this, however, but there arose another question.

I was a worker--would it do me harm to disport myself in the flowery
mead with the butterflies? Should I feel a distaste for the bread earned
by labour and pain after the honey placed, effortless, on my plate?

So much for the cons. The pros were these:

Black, being most inexpensive in a smoky town, was my wear, relieved by
a few touches of blue. And I should not go as a butterfly, but as a
quiet worker in my dark things. I need only buy a new walking costume,
and a fresh dinner dress