ly.

"Oh, no, monsieur," she replied with grave, wide eyes. "Our ideal man is
only a prince."

"Then your ideal king must be something more than a man," he said in
soberer mood as she unfolded to him the working of a maiden mind, which
is always awe-inspiring.

"Yes," she responded, "something less than a god."

"And the maidens of Krovitch, what have they dreamed?"

She glanced up to see if his expression matched the apparent gravity of
his words. Reassured by the entire absence of banter in his face, she
answered him sincerely. She was too guileless to analyze his possible
mental attitude save by these superficial indications. "A demigod like
our ancient sovereign, Stovik First," she responded reverently.

"So you have deified His Majesty already?"

"God save His Majesty from ill," she answered, "but I think he is very
human--and handsome." She blushed uneasily. A merry peal of laughter
from the group about the King drew their attention. Leaning her elbow on
the cloth, the girl turned her head to learn the cause of the hilarity.
Carter, thankful for the opportunity, employed the pause in studying
Trusia. The Duchess's eyes were sparkling like some lustrous jet. The
deep flush of the jacqueminot burned in her cheeks as she smilingly
regarded Natalie, the heroine of the jest. Was all this scintillation a
mask, he wondered, or had the coming of the King--the remembrance of her
vow--driven the recollection of that momentary surrender in Paris from
her heart? He sighed. The girl next him turned in apology.

"Forgive me, monsieur, for forgetting you. But Her Grace--is she not
beautiful? When she makes us girls forget, is it any wonder the youths
of Krovitch are oblivious of our poor existence?"

"She has had many suitors, then?" Carter to save him could not refrain
from the question.

"A legion," she answered; "but all have withdrawn nobly in favor of the
King. Even Paul Zulka and Major Sobieska. They are transferring to him
their lives and their swords to please her."

A slight commotion at the head of the table again caused them to turn
their heads in that direction. The King was rising.

"He is going to announce his betrothal," suggested the girl at Carter's
side. Carter's face grew grim and white. But such was not the royal
intent. Being assured that all present understood French, King Stovik in
a short speech thanked the people of Krovitch for their devotion to his
House. He promised that, if destiny plac