he came back
from the school in Dresden, too young to have a marked individuality
of her own. The difference she brought to the house was a certain
brightness and a sort of experimental femininity, which reigned supreme
until her English governess came back again to live as a companion with
her pupil. Wanda moved the furniture, turned the house round on its
staid basis, and made a hundred experiments in domestic economy before
she gave way to her father's habits of life. Then she made that happiest
of human discoveries, which has the magic power of allaying at one
stroke the eternal feminine discontent which has made the world uneasy
since the day that Eve idled in that perfect garden--she found that she
was wanted in the world!

The prince did not tell her so. Perhaps his need of her was too obvious
to require words. He had given his best years to Poland, and now that
old age was coming, that health was failing and wealth had vanished,
Poland would have none of him.

There was no Poland. At this moment Wanda burst upon him, so to speak,
with a hundred desires that only he could fulfil, a hundred questions
that only he could answer. And, as wise persons know, to fulfil desires
and answer questions is the best happiness.

Father and daughter lived a quiet life in the house that was called
a palace by courtesy only. For Martin was made of livelier stuff, and
rarely stayed long at home. He came and went with a feverish haste; was
fond of travel, he said, and the authorities kept a questioning eye upon
his movements.

There are two doors to the Bukaty Palace. As often as not, Martin made
use of the smaller door giving entrance to the garden at the back of the
house, which garden could also be entered from an alley leading round
from the back of the bank, which stands opposite the post-office in the
busier part of Kotzebue Street.

He came in by this door one evening and did not come alone, for he was
accompanied by a man in working-clothes. The streets of Warsaw are well
lighted and well guarded by a most excellent police, second only as the
Russians are to the police of London. It is therefore the custom to go
abroad at night as much as in the day, and the Krakowski is more crowded
after dark than during the afternoon. Kosmaroff had walked some distance
behind Prince Martin in the streets. Martin unlocked the gate of the
garden and passed in, leaving the gate open with the key in the lock. In
a minute Kosmaroff follo