o serious for your
years. Sophy and I between us must try to cure you of that! You see, we
have arrived."

He handed her out, followed her across the pavement, and found himself
plunged into what seemed to him to be an absolute vortex of human
beings, all dressed in very much the same fashion, all laughing and
talking together very much in the same note, all criticising every fresh
group of arrivals with very much the same eyes and manner. The
palm-court was crowded with little parties seated at the various round
tables, partaking languidly of the most indolent meal of the day. Even
the broad passageway was full of men and women, standing about talking
or looking for tables. One could scarcely hear the music of the
orchestra for the babel of voices.

The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. He seemed to have
been awaiting their arrival there--a cold, immaculate, and, considering
his lack of height, a curiously distinguished-looking figure.

"I have a table inside," he told them as they approached. "It is better
for conversation. The rest of the place is like a beer-garden. I am not
sure if they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will come also
into the restaurant."

"Wise man!" Louise declared. "I, too, hate the babel outside."

They were ushered to a round table directly before the entrance, and a
couple of attentive waiters stood behind their chairs.

"We are faced," said the prince, as he took up the menu, "with our daily
problem. What can I order for you?"

"A cup of chocolate," Louise replied.

"And Miss Sophy?"

"Tea, please."

John, too, preferred tea; the prince ordered absinth.

"A polyglot meal, isn't it, Mr. Strangewey?" said Louise, as the order
was executed; "not in the least; what that wonderful old butler of yours
would understand by tea. We become depraved in our appetites, as well as
in our sensations. We are always seeking for something new. Sophy, put
your hat on straight if you want to make a good impression on Mr.
Strangewey. I am hoping that you two will be great friends."

Sophy turned toward John with a little grimace.

"Louise is so tactless!" she said. "I am sure any idea you might have
had of liking me will have gone already. Has it, Mr. Strangewey?"

"On the contrary," he replied, a little stiffly, but without hesitation,
"I was thinking that Miss Maurel could scarcely have set me a more
pleasant task."

The girl looked reproachfully across at her frie