the flesh alone, a physical necessity. Come, send her to me,
and I shall tear away her illusions. She will not thank me for it, but
she will marry the crown prince."

"I will send her to the palace to-day."

"Very good; and first tell her why I wish to speak with her. It may be
that of herself she will change her mind when she learns the wishes of
her prince. Farewell."

And the prince rode off to a review of the troops of the city guard. So
it was that Bertha of Herzvina sat for a long time in a lonely room,
after her arrival at the palace before the door opened, a man in livery
bowed for the entrance of the prince, and she found herself alone with
her sovereign.

Automatically she curtsied, and he let her remain bowed while he slowly
drew off his white gloves. He still wore his general's uniform with the
stiff padding which would not allow his body to grow old, for a prince
of Pornia must always look the soldier.

"Sit down," he ordered, and as she obeyed he commenced to walk the room.

He never sat quietly through an interview if he could avoid it; a
constitutional weakness of the nerves made it almost impossible for him
to meet another person's eyes. The pacing up and down gave a plausible
reason for the continual shifting of his glance.

"A good day, a very good day," he said. "The hussars were wonderful."

His shoulders strained further back. The prince himself always rode at
the head of the hussars; in her childhood she had admired him. He
stopped at a window and hummed a marching air. That was a planned
maneuver, for his back was far more royal than his face, with its tall
forehead and diminutive mouth and chin. She felt as if she were in the
presence of a uniformed automaton.

He broke off his humming and spoke without turning.

"Well?"

"My decision is unchanged."

"Impossible! In the length of a whole day even a woman must think
twice."

"Yes, many times."

"You will not marry him?"

"I cannot love him."

He whirled, and the pale blue eyes flashed at her a brief glance which
made her cringe. It was as if an X-ray had been turned on her heart.

"Love!" he said softly, and she shuddered again. "Because he is old?
Bertha, you are no longer a child. Other women marry for what they may
term love. It is your privilege to marry for the State. That is the
nobler thing."

He smiled and nodded, repeating for his own ear: "The nobler thing! What
is greater than such service--what is more glorious