going to do?" she whispered.

"There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. "Until I know what
I have come to London to learn, I shall fight against it."

"You mean about Louise?"

"I mean about Louise," he said gravely.

Sophy came still closer to him. Her voice was as soft as the lightest,
finest note of music, trembling a little with that one thread of
passion. She seemed so dainty, so quiet and sweet, that for a moment he
found himself able to imagine that it was all a dream; that hers was
just one of those fairy, disquieting voices that floated about on the
summer breeze and rippled along the valleys and hillsides of his
Cumberland home. Then, swift as the fancy itself, came the warm touch of
her hand upon his, the lure of her voice once more, with its trembling
cadence.

"Why are you so foolish?" she murmured. "Louise is very wonderful in her
place, but she is not what you want in life. Has it never occurred to
you that you may be too late?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I believe what the world believes, what some day I think she will admit
to herself--that she cares for the Prince of Seyre."

"Has she ever told you so?"

"Louise never speaks of these things to any living soul. I am only
telling you what I think. I am trying to save you pain--trying for my
own sake as well as yours."

He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her cloak. Her heart sank,
her lips quivered a little. It seemed to her that he had passed to a
great distance.

"Very soon," John said, "I shall ask Louise to tell me the truth. I
think that I shall ask her, if I can, to-morrow!"

XIII

John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise to him. He
was sitting smoking an after-breakfast pipe on the following morning,
and gazing at the telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the
door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside.

"I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began.

"Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing
open the door. "It is very good of you to come and see me."

The prince followed John into the little sitting room. He was dressed,
as usual, with scrupulous care. His white linen gaiters were immaculate,
his trousers were perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged
the care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, fastened
with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were per