as well as her own wish
to remain in the background.

Patricia Carson, as she was named after her patron saint, or "Patty"
Carson, as she was called more frequently, was an exceedingly pretty
girl. She was tall and fair, with a smile that showed such confidence
in everyone she met that few could find the courage to undeceive her by
being themselves, and it was easier, in the face of such an appeal as
her eyes made to the best in every one, for each to act a part while he
was with her. She was young, impressionable, and absolutely
inexperienced. As a little girl she had lived on a great ranch, where
she could gallop from sunrise to sunset over her own prairie land, and
later her life had been spent in a convent outside of Paris. She had
but two great emotions, her love for her father and for the Church
which had nursed her. Her father's death had sanctified him and given
him a place in her heart that her mother could not hold, and when she
found herself at twenty-one the mistress of a great fortune, her one
idea as to the disposal of it was to do with it what would best please
him and the Church which had been the ruling power in the life of both
of them. She was quite unconscious of her beauty, and her mode of
speaking was simple and eager.

She halted as she came near the King, and resting her two hands on the
top of her lace parasol, nodded pleasantly to him and to the others.
She neither courtesied nor offered him her hand, but seemed to prefer
this middle course, leaving them to decide whether she acted as she did
from ignorance or from choice.

As the King stepped forward to greet her mother, Miss Carson passed him
and moved on to where the Father Superior stood apart from the others,
talking earnestly with the Prince. What he was saying was of an
unwelcome nature, for Kalonay's face wore an expression of boredom and
polite protest which changed instantly to one of delight when he saw
Miss Carson. The girl hesitated and made a deep obeisance to the
priest.

"I am afraid I interrupt you," she said.

"Not at all," Kalonay assured her, laughing. "It is a most welcome
interruption. The good father has been finding fault with me, as
usual, and I am quite willing to change the subject."

The priest smiled kindly on the girl, and while he exchanged some words
of welcome with her, Kalonay brought up one of the huge wicker chairs,
and she seated herself with her back to the others, facing the two men,
who