l," he laughed, "you will have
very little to learn."

"Oh, I'm not bothered about the women; I can manage them all right."

"For the love of Heaven: don't say that so loud," he exclaimed. "One
of them might hear you, and then----" and he raised his hands
expressively.

"We are growing frivolous," said I, "let us go to bed."

He tossed his cigarette into the grate. "Sometimes it is well to sleep
over a problem," he said. He poured two measures of liquor. "Here's
to a clear mind and a right decision in the morning."

We drank it standing--and I, at least, with feeling.

I cannot say if a good night's rest had anything to do with it, but,
when I awoke, my mind was made up, and I was ready to give answer to
the King. It chanced that Courtney and I met at breakfast--the
American customs as to meals prevailed at the Embassy--and had the room
to ourselves; possibly, because we were very late and the day was very
charming.

"Well," said he, "I see you've made your decision; which gets it,
Valeria or America?"

"Behold a prospective Archduke!" said I.

He arose and, hand over heart, bowed low. "I salute Your Royal
Highness!" he said.

"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am quite serious. It's an unusual pleasure to have one worth
saluting."

I waved the compliment aside. "If it is to terminate my old
friendships or bring formality into private intercourse I shall remain
American," I declared.

The diplomat smiled. "Don't you see it all rests with yourself? You
can be as formal or as familiar as you please."

"I can revise my List of Friends, so to speak--drop those I don't care
for and enter such new ones as I wish?"

"Exactly."

"Well, that much of the new order will be quite to my liking," said I,
and turned to my mail.

The letters lay face downward, of course, and I opened them in their
order without bothering to examine the superscription. Presently, I
came upon one sealed with a blurred dab of green wax. Rather curious,
I turned it over; it was unstamped and was marked: "Personal and
Important." I did not know the hand-writing; but, then, Lady Helen
Radnor's was the only one in all Dornlitz I could have known.

"Here," said I to Courtney, "is a letter marked 'Personal and
Important'; what is it; an invitation to contribute to the
professionally destitute?"

"More likely an invitation to some gambling den."

I tossed it over. "Take a look at it and guess again," I s