〃The　world　might　have　been　happier　for　both　of　us；〃　he　whispered。
  Somerfield；　sullen　and　discontented；　came　and　looked　at　them；　moved　away；　and　then　hesitatingly　returned。
  〃Willmott　is　waiting　for　you；〃　he　said。　〃The　last　was　my　dance；　and　this　is　his。〃
  She　rose　at　once　and　turned　to　the　Prince。
  〃I　think　that　we　should　go　back；〃　she　said。　〃Will　you　take　me　to　my　aunt？〃
  〃If　it　must　be　so；〃　he　answered。　〃Tell　me；　Miss　Penelope；〃　he　added；　〃may　I　ask　your　aunt　or　the　Duchess　to　bring　you　one　day　to　my　house　to　see　my　treasures？　I　cannot　say　how　long　I　shall　remain　in　this　country。　I　would　like　you　so　much　to　come　before　I　break　up　my　little　home。〃
  〃Of　course　we　will；〃　she　answered。　〃My　aunt　goes　nowhere；　but　the　Duchess　will　bring　me；　I　am　sure。　Ask　her　when　I　am　there；　and　we　can　agree　about　the　day。〃
  He　leaned　a　little　towards　her。
  〃Tomorrow？〃　he　whispered。
  She　nodded。　There　were　three　engagements　for　the　next　day　of　which　she　took　no　heed。
  〃Tomorrow；〃　she　said。　〃Come　and　let　us　arrange　it　with　the　Duchess。〃
  Prince　Maiyo　left　Devenham　House　to　find　the　stars　paling　in　the　sky；　and　the　light　of　an　April　dawn　breaking　through　the　black　clouds　eastwards。　He　dismissed　his　electric　brougham　with　a　little　wave　of　the　hand；　and　turned　to　walk　to　his　house　in　St。　James's　Square。　As　he　walked；　he　bared　his　head。　After　the　long　hours　of　artificially　heated　rooms；　there　was　something　particularly　soothing　about　the　fresh　sweetness　of　the　early　spring　morning。　There　was　something；　it　seemed　to　him；　which　reminded　him；　however　faintly；　of　the　mornings　in　his　own　land；the　perfume　of　the　flowers　from　the　window…boxes；　perhaps；　the　absence　of　that　hideous　roar　of　traffic；　or　the　faint　aromatic　scent　from　the　lime　trees　in　the　Park；　heavy　from　recent　rain。　It　was　the　quietest　hour　of　the　twenty…four；the　hour　almost　of　dawn。　The　night　wayfarers　had　passed　away；　the　great　army　of　toilers　as　yet　slumbered。　One　sad…eyed　woman　stumbled　against　him　as　he　walked　slowly　up　Piccadilly。　He　lifted　his　hat　with　an　involuntary　gesture；　and　her　laugh　changed　into　a　sob。　He　turned　round；　and　emptied　his　pockets　of　silver　into　her　hand；　hurrying　away　quickly　that　his　eyes　might　not　dwell　upon　her　face。
  〃A　coward　always；〃　he　murmured　to　himself；　a　little　wearily；　for　he　knew　where　his　weakness　lay；an　invincible　repugnance　to　the　ugly　things　of　life。　As　he　passed　on；　however；　his　spirits　rose　again。　He　caught　a　breath　of　lilac　scent　from　a　closed　florist's　shop。　He　looked　up　to　the　skies；　over　the　housetops；　faintly　blue；　growing　clearer　every　moment。　Almost　he　fancied　that　he　looked　again　into　the　eyes　of　this　strange　girl；　recalled　her　unexpected　yet　delightful　frankness；　which　to　him；　with　his　love　of　abstract　truth；　was；　after　all；　so　fascinating。　Oh；　there　was　much　to　be　said　for　this　Western　world！much　to　be　said　for　those　whose　part　it　was　to　live　in　it！　Yet；　never　so　much　as　during　that　brief　night　walk　through　the　silent　streets；　did　he　realize　how　absolutely　unfitted　he　was　to　be　even　a　temporary　sojourner　in　this　vast　city。　What　would　they　say　of　him　if　they　knew；of　him；　a　breaker　of　their　laws；　a　guest；　and　yet　a　sinner　against　all　their　conventions；　a　guest；　and　yet　one　whose　hand　it　was　which　would　strike　them；　some　day　or　other；　the　great　blow！　What　would　she　think　of　him？　He　wondered　whether　she　would　realize　the　truth；　whether　she　would　understand。　Almost　as　he　asked　himself　the　question；　he　smiled。　To　him　it　seemed　a　strange　proof　of　the　danger　in　which　a　weaker　man　would　stand　of　passing　under　the　yoke　of　this　hateful　Western　civilization。　To　dream　of　heryes！　To　see　her　face　shining　upon　him　from　every　beautiful　place；　to　feel　the　delight　of　her　presence　with　every　delicious　sensation；the　warmth　of　the　sunlight；　the　perfume　of　the　blossoms　he　loved！　There　was　joy　in　this；　the　joy　of　the　artist　and　the　lover。　But　to　find　her　in　his　life；　a　real　person；　a　daughter　of　this　new　world；　whose　every　instinct　would　be　at　war　with　histhat　way　lay　slavery！　He　brushed　the　very　thought　from　him。
  As　he　reached　the　door　of　his　house　in　St。　James'　Square；　it　opened　slowly　before　him。　He　had　brought　his　own　servants　from　his　own　country；　and　in　their　master's　absence　sleep　was　not　for　them。　His　butler　spoke　to　him　in　his　own　language。　The　Prince　nodded　and　passed　on。　On　his　study　tablea　curious　note　of　modernism　where　everything　seemed　to　belong　to　a　bygone　worldwas　a　cablegram。　He　tore　it　open。　It　consisted　of　one　word　only。　He　let　the　thin　paper　fall　fluttering　from　his　fingers。　So　the　time　was　fixed！
  Then　Soto　came　gliding　noiselessly　into　the　room；　fully　dressed；　with　tireless　eyes　but　wan　face；Soto；　the　prototype　of　his　master；　the　most　perfect　secretary　and　servant　evolved　through　all　the　years。
  〃Master；〃　he　said；　〃there　has　been　trouble　here。　An　Englishman　came　with　this　card。〃
  The　Prince　took　it；　and　read　the　name　of　Inspector　Jacks。
  〃Well？〃　he　murmured。
  〃The　man　asked　questions；〃　Soto　continued。　〃We　spoke　English　so　badly　that　he　was　puzzled。　He　went　away；　but　he　will　come　again。〃
  The　Prince　smiled；　and　laid　his　hand　almost　caressingly　upon　the　other's　shoulder。
  〃It　is　of　no　consequence；　Soto；〃　he　said；〃no　consequence　whatever。〃
  CHAPTER　XIV。　AN　ENGAGEMENT
  〃Your　rooms；　Prince；　are　wonderful；〃　Penelope　said　to　him。　〃I　knew　that　you　were　a　man　of　taste；　but　I　did　not　know　that　you　were　also　a　millionaire。〃
  He　laughed　softly。
  〃In　my　country；〃　he　answered；　〃there　are　no　millionaires。　The　money　which　we　have；　however；　we　spend；　perhaps　a　little　differently。　But；　indeed；　none　of　my　treasures　here　have　cost　me　anything。　They　have　come　to　me　through　more　generations　than　I　should　care　to　reckon　up。　The　bronze　idol；　for　instance；　upon　my　writing　case　is　four　hundred　years　old；　to　my　certain　knowledge；　and　my　tapestries　were　woven　when　in　this　country　your　walls　went　bare。〃
  〃What　I　admire　more　than　anything；〃　the　Duchess　declared；　〃is　your　beautiful　violet　tone。〃
  〃I　am　glad；〃　he　answered；　〃that　you　like　my　coloring。　Some　people　have　thought　it　sombre。　To　me　dark　colors　indoors　are　restful。〃
  〃Everything　about　the　whole　place　is　restful；〃　Penelope　said；〃your　servants　with　their　quaint　dresses　and　slippered　feet；　your　thick　carpets；　the　smell　of　those　strange　burning　leaves；　and；　forgive　me　if　I　say　so；　your　closed　windows。　I　suppose　in　time　I　should　have　a　headache。　For　a　little　while　it　is　delicious。〃
  The　Prince　sighed。
  〃Fresh　air　is　good；〃　he　said；　〃but　the　air　that　comes　from　your　streets　does　not　seem　to　me　to　be　fresh；　nor　do　I　like　the　roar　of　your　great　city　always　in　my　ears。　Here　I　cut　myself　off；　and　I　feel　that　I　can　think。　Duchess；　you　must　try　those　preserved　fruits。　They　come　to　me　from　my　own　land。　I　think　that　the　secret　of　preserving　them　is　not　known　here。　You　see；　they　are　packed　with　rose　leaves　and　lemon　plant。　There　is　a　golden　fig；　Miss　Penelope；the　fruit　of　great　knowledge；　the　magical　fruit；　too；　they　say。　Eat　that　and　close　your　eyes　and　you　can　look　back　and　tell　us　all　the　wonders　of　the　past。　That　is　to　say；〃　he　added　with　a　faint　smile；　〃if　the　magic　works。〃
  〃But　the　magic　never　does　work；〃　she　protested　with　a　little　sigh；　〃and　I　am　not　in　the　least　interested　in　the　past。　Tell　me　something　about　the　future？〃
  〃Surely　that　is　easier；〃　he　answered。　〃Over　the　past　we　have　lost　our　control；what　has　been　must　remain　to　the　end　of　time。　The　future　is　ours　to　do　what　we　will　with。〃
  〃That　sounds　so　reasonable；〃　the　Duchess　declared；　〃and　it　is　so　absolutely　false。　No　one　can　do　what　they　will　with　the　future。　It　is　the　future　which　does　what　it　will　with　us。〃
  The　Prince　smiled　tolerantly。
  〃It　depends　a　good　deal；　does　it　not；〃　he　said；　〃upon　ourselves？　Miss　Penelope　is　the　daughter　of　a　country　which　is　still　young；　which　has　all　its　future　before　it；　and　which；　has　proclaimed　to　the　world　its　fixed　intention　of　controlling　its　own　destinies。　She；　at　any　rate；　should　have　imbibed　the　national　spirit。　You　are　looking　at　my　curtains；〃　he　added；　turning　to　Penelope。　〃Let　me　show　you　the　figures　upon　them；　and　I　will　tell　you　the　allegory。〃
  He　led　her　to　the　window；　and　explained　to　her　for　some　moments　the　story　of　the　faded　images　which　represented　one　chapter　out　of　the　mythology　of　his　country。　And　then　she　stopped　him。
  〃Always；〃　she　said；　〃you　and　I　seem　to　be　talking　of　things　that　are　dead　and　past；　or　of　a　future　which　is　out　of　our　reach。　Isn't　it　possible　to　speak　now　and　then　of　the　present？〃
  〃Of　the　actual　present？〃　he　asked　softly。　〃Of　this　very　moment？〃
  〃Of　this　very　moment；　if　you　will；〃　she　answered。　〃Your　fairy　tale　the　other　night　was　wonderful；　but　it　was　a　long　way　off。〃
  The　Prince　was　summoned　away　somewhat　abruptly　to　bid　farewell　to　a　little　stream　of　departing　guests。　Today；　more　than　ever；　he　seemed　to　belong；　indeed　to　the　world　of　real　and　actual　things；　for　a　cousin　of　his　mother's；　a　Lady　Stretton…Wynne；　was　helping　him　receive　his　guestshis　own　aunt；　as　Penelope　told　herself　more　than　once；　struggling　all　the　time　with　a　vague　incredulity。　When　he　was　able　to　rejoin　her；　she　was　examining　a　curious　little　coffer　which　stood　upon　an　ivory　table。
  〃Show　me　the　mystery　of　this　lock；〃　she　begged。　〃I　have　bee