ep into its eyes, and
thinking unutterable thoughts, which completely defy transcription.

At the same moment, to Archibald Rushford, sitting immersed in his
morning newspaper, wholly unsuspicious of all this, the Prince of
Markeld's card was handed. It may be noted in passing that, with the
influx of patrons to the house, the American had found it necessary to
retire to the privacy of his own apartment in order to enjoy the paper
undisturbed.

"All rights show him up," he said, when he had glanced at the card; and
almost immediately the Prince himself appeared.

Rushford started up with hand outstretched.

"Glad to see you, Prince," he said. "I was just figuring on looking you
up and wondering how I'd better go about it--I didn't quite know what
the etiquette of the thing was."

The Prince laughed.

"The etiquette is simple." he answered. "You have only to come to my
door and knock."

"Refreshingly democratic!" and Rushford's eyes danced. "That would
appeal to my countrymen. But my ignorance was natural enough. You see,
we never have the chance, at home, to hobnob with Highnesses. That's the
reason so many of us come abroad. But we're not the real thing--the
genuine, simon-pure American stays at home and looks after his
business."

"And no doubt gets along very well without Highnesses," laughed Markeld,
gripping the proffered fingers with a warmth which pleased their owner.
The latter found himself admiring, too, the erect figure, the clean
face, the clear eyes; he told himself with pleasure that the Prince
looked as well by daylight as by gaslight--a tribute to his youth and
the way he had employed it.

"Sit down, won't you?" he asked cordially.

"Yes, the people of the States manage to worry along some way without
any nobility. In fact, they've rather got a prejudice against that sort
of thing. You see, the only Highnesses they've had to judge by are the
fortune-hunters who come over after our girls. Now I've always believed
that it isn't any fairer to judge European nobility by those specimens
than it is to judge us Americans by the expatriated idiots one finds
here in Europe--it's like judging a bin of apples by the rotten ones."

"You are doubtless right," agreed the Prince, who had followed these
remarks with an anxiety almost painful. "And I am glad to hear you
speak in that way. I infer that you do not object to international
marriages."

"Not at all, per se. Other things being equal, I see no r