only of that!"

The other man peeped behind the curtain in his turn, and seizing
Caroline by the arm tip-toed with her to a further room.

"What--who--what is the meaning of this?" he whispered hoarsely.
"That child--where--"

Caroline rubbed her eyes. The golden voice rose and fell around her.

"General--Delia," she muttered, and stumbled against him. He lifted
her limp little body and laid it gently on a leather sofa.

"Another time," he said softly to the other man, "I--we cannot talk
with you now. Will you excuse us?"

The man looked longingly at the curtains.

"She will never do more well than that. Never!" he hissed. "Oh, my
friend, hear it grow soft! Yes, yes, I am going."

[Illustration: "Sh! sh!" he whispered excitedly, "not a vordt! Not a
vordt! Mein Gott! but it is marvellous."]

It seemed to Caroline that in a dream some one with a red face and
glasses askew, shook her by the shoulder and said to her sternly,
"Sh! sh! Listen to me. To-day you hear a great artist--hey? Will you
forget it? I must go because they do not vant me, but you will stay
and listen. There is here no such voice. Velvet! Honey! Sh! sh!" and
he went the way of dreams.

The man who stayed looked long through the curtains.

As a swing droops slow and slower, as the ripples fade from a stone
thrown in the stream, the song of the Princess softened and crooned
and hushed. Now it was a rich breath, a resonant thread,

"Flow gently, sweet Afton--"

The man stepped across the room and sank below the General at her
feet. With her finger on her lips she turned her eyes to his and
looked deep into them. He caught his breath with a sob, and wrapping
his arm about her as he knelt, hid his face on her lap, against the
General. She laid her hand on his head, across the warm little body,
and patted it tenderly. Around them lay the sleepers; the General's
soft breath was in their ears. The man lifted his head and looked
adoringly at the Princess: her hand caressed his cheek, but her eyes
looked beyond him into the future.

III

THE PRIZE

Caroline sniffed her way luxuriously through the dusky panelled
library.

"I think it smells awfully good here, don't you?" she inquired of
her hostess.

The lady's wonderful velvet train dragged listlessly behind her. Her
neck and arms were dressed in heavy yellowish lace, but all around
her slim body waves of deep colored, soft velvet held the light in
lustrous pools or darkened int