, Betty was having an interview with Mr. Scobell which was to produce far-reaching results, and which, incidentally, was to leav

o stand by silently while persons were being tactful. At the end of the second minute he had plunged through his sister's mild monologue like

talking for half a day before you get to the point. I guess you've heard that t

an--?" she

. "Cut out any fool notions about romance." Miss Scobell, who was knitting a sock, checked her needles for a moment in order to sigh. Her brother eyed her morosely, then resumed his remarks. "This is a matter of state. That

d another sigh, an

her brother, irritably, "do

well,

cture, standing there, in her white dress, but in the matter of pictures, still life was evidently what Mr. Scobell pref

ing, quite dispassionately, what a singularly nasty little man he looked, and wondering--not for the first time--what strange qualit

an insistence on freedom was the first article in her creed. A great rush

u want me to marry t

's ri

anything o

e foolish. You

and her slim, boyish figure quivered. Her chin, always

't," s

, went on with tact at the point where her bro

I have not seen him, but everybody say

you to marry him before lunch. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted. It

arguments to cl

ou had just to wave your hand. Why should your

id Mr. Scobel

o you

Betty, you've gotten hold of wrong ideas about this place. You don't un

dear," murmured Miss Sco

g. If you want to know who's the big noise here, it's me--me! This Prince guy is my hired man. See? Who sent for him? I did. Who put him on the throne? I did. Who pays him his salary? I do, from the profits of the Casi

h humiliation. She half-raised her hand

on't. I won't

the room in an ecstasy

er stitch. "Maybe you think he's some kind of a Dago, this guy? Maybe that's what's biting you

stared

Amer

ved all his life in the States. He's no little runt of a Dago. No, sir. He's a Harvard man, six-foot high and

" murmured Miss Scobell.

appenings of life wakes sometimes in moments of keen emotion. At its highest, it is prophecy; at its lowest, a vague presentiment. It woke in Betty now. There was no particular reason why she

d. "What was his name

. Maude was his mother's name. She was a

ard the door. Something in h

" she said quietl

*

ds have grown weary, and we rush unsuspecting on our fate. No owl hooted, no thunder rolled fr

d, or willfully abandoned him. His mood lightened swiftly. Humility vanished. He was not

ght of her face

e drew near she looked at him, and there was that in her look which se

ey stood silent and motion

the firs

te," sh

or words, and came empty awa

sit down?"

andstone rock on which he had

o end to him. Wherever he looked, there were hands and feet and legs. He was a vast blot on the

gain. It was absurd! Ther

so hard to speak, he would not be able to utter a word. A nightmare feeling of unreality came upon him. Had he

etty, and a thrill went through h

atic--his left hand was clasping her right,

hed her h

for the third time, y

et

t up q

re to speak at all, to say the essential thing in the shortest poss

you!" and finding that this was a

To Betty, shaken by her encounter with Mr. Scobell, they sounded artifici

said sharply.

ot have stirred him more if she h

know. I've

n to

nt on

me--ever since we met; you couldn't understand. I can't tell you--a sort of help--something--something that--I can't put it into words. Only it used to help me just to think of you. It was almost impersonal. I didn't mind if I never saw you again. I didn't expect ever to see you

his easy-going life he knew shame. Even now he had not grasped to the full the purp

s if she were talking to herself. She was looking past him, at

re a man in the world who won't sell himself? I thought that you--I

ed at hi

she said. "

d not

or a moment her white dress stood out clearly. She had stopped. With his whole soul he prayed that she would look back. But she moved on once more, and was gone. And

like this. He must overtake her. He must stop her. He must speak to her. He must say-

im lay the hillside, dozing in the noonday sun; below, the Mediterranean, sl