r several
hours. Anguish regaled his friend with an enthusiastic dissertation on
the charms of the Countess Dagmar, lady-in-waiting to the Princess. In
conclusion he said glowingly, his cigar having been out for half an hour
or more because his energy had been spent in another direction.

"You haven't seen much of her, Lorry, but I tell you she is rare. And
she's not betrothed to any of these confounded counts or dukes either.
They all adore her but she's not committed."

"How do you know all this?" demanded Lorry, who but half heard through
his dreams.

"Asked her, of course. How in thunder do you suppose?"

"And you've known her but a day? Well, you are progressive."

"Oh, perfectly natural conversation, you know," explained Anguish,
composedly. "She began it by asking me if I were married, and I said I
wasn't even engaged. Then I asked her if she were married. You see, from
the title, you can't tell whether a countess is married or single.
She said she wasn't, and I promptly and very properly expressed my
amazement. By Jove, she has a will and a mind of her own, that young
woman has. She's not going to marry until she finds a man of the
right sort--which is refreshing. I like to hear a girl talk like that,
especially a pretty girl who can deal in princes, counts and all kinds
of nobility when it comes to a matrimonial trade. By Jove, I'm sorry for
the Princess, though."

"Sorry for the Princess? Why?" asked the other, alert at once.

"Oh, just because it's not in her power to be so independent. The
Countess says she cries every night when she thinks of what the poor
girl has to contend with."

"Tell me about it."

"I don't know anything to tell. I'm not interested in the Princess, and
I didn't have the nerve to ask many questions. I do know, however, that
she is going to have an unpleasant matrimonial alliance forced upon her
in some way." "That is usual.

"That's what I gather from the Countess. Maybe you can pump the Countess
and get all you want to know in connection with the matter. It's a
pretty serious state of affairs, I should say, or she wouldn't be
weeping through sympathy."

Lorry recalled a part of the afternoon's sweetly dangerous conversation
and the perspiration stood cold and damp on his brow.

"Well, old man, you've chased Miss Guggenslocker to earth only to find
her an impossibility. Pretty hopeless for you, Lorry, but don't let it
break you up completely. We can go back home after a