ast estates had passed to a distant and
disagreeable relative; and the widowed Grand Duchess, with her one
fair daughter, had lived for years in a pretty old house with a
high-walled garden, at Hampton Court, lent by the generosity of the
King and Queen of England.

For a long moment the Dresden china lady thought in silence and
something of sadness. Then she roused herself again and asked the one
and only Royal Princess with an American name what, in the way of a
match, she really expected.

"What do I expect?" echoed Virginia. "Why, I _wish_ for the Moon--no,
I mean the Sun. But I don't expect to get it."

"Is that a way of saying you never intend to marry?"

"I'm afraid it amounts to that," admitted Virginia, "since there is
only one man in the world I would have for my husband."

"My dearest! A man you have let yourself learn to care for? A man
beneath you? How terrible! But you see no one. I--"

"I've never seen this man. And--I'm not 'in love' with him; that would
be too foolish. Because, instead of being beneath, he's far, far above
me."

"Virginia! Of whom can you be talking? Or is this another joke?"

Virginia blushed a little, and instead of answering her mother's look
of helpless appeal, stared at the row of tall hollyhocks that blazed
along the ivy-hidden garden wall. She did not speak for an instant,
and then she said with the dainty shyness of a child pinned to a
statement by uncomprehending elders, "It isn't a joke. Nonsense,
maybe--yet not a joke. I've always thought of him--for so many years
I've forgotten when it first began. He's so great, so--everything that
appeals to me; how could I help thinking about him, and putting him on
a pedestal? I--there's no idea of marriage in my mind, of course.
Only--there's no other man possible, after all the thoughts I've given
him. No other man in the world."

"My dear, you _must_ tell me his name."

"What, when I've described him--almost--do you still need to hear his
name? Well then, I--I'm not ashamed to tell. It's 'Leopold.'"

"Leopold! You're talking of the Emperor of Rhaetia."

"As if it could have been any one else."

"And you have thought of him--you've cherished him--for years--as an
ideal! Why, you never spoke of him particularly before."

"That's because you never seriously wanted me to take a husband until
this prim, dull French Henri proposed himself. My thoughts were my
own. I wouldn't have told, only--you see why."

"Of course. My