He kissed her, evidently surprised at her earnestness. And indeed
Madeline was surprised herself. Once started, her speech had
flowed.

"You always were the best of fellows, Majesty. And if you really
care--if you really want to help me I'll be only too glad to
accept. It will be fine. Florence will go wild. And that
Greaser won't harass me any more. Majesty, pretty soon some
titled fellow will be spending your money; I may as well take a
little before he gets it all," he finished, jokingly.

"What do you know about me?" she asked, lightly.

"More than you think. Even if we are lost out here in the woolly
West we get news. Everybody knows about Anglesbury. And that
Dago duke who chased you all over Europe, that Lord Castleton has
the running now and seems about to win. How about it, Majesty?"

Madeline detected a hint that suggested scorn in his gay speech.
And deep in his searching glance she saw a flame. She became
thoughtful. She had forgotten Castleton, New York, society.

"Alfred," she began, seriously, "I don't believe any titled
gentleman will ever spend my money, as you elegantly express it."

"I don't care for that. It's you!" he cried, passionately, and
he grasped her with a violence that startled her. He was white;
his eyes were now like fire. "You are so splendid--so wonderful.
People called you the American Beauty, but you're more than that.