knew so much better all that the Boy was sacrificing. But he also knew,
as did the poor royal victim himself, that it was inevitable.

"I don't wonder at the court escapades that occasionally scandalize all
Europe," said the Boy. "I don't wonder at all! The real wonder is that
more of the poor slaves to royalty do not snap the chains that bind
them, and bolt for freedom. It would be like me,--very like me!"

And Verdayne could say nothing. He knew of more reasons than one why it
would be very like the Boy to do such a thing, and he sighed as he
thought that some time, perhaps, he might do it. And yet he could not
blame him!

"Father Paul," went on the Boy, his thoughts taking a new turn, "you are
a bachelor--a hopeless old bachelor--and you have never told me why. Of
course there's a woman or two in it! We have talked about everything
else under the sun, I think--you and I--but, curiously enough, we have
never talked of love! Yet I feel sure that you believe in it. Don't you,
Father Paul? Come now, confess! I am in a mood for sentiment to-day, and
I want to hear what drove you to a life of single blessedness--what made
my romantic old pal such a confirmed old celibate! I don't believe that
you object to matrimony on general principles. Tell me your love-story,
please, Father Paul."

"What makes you so certain that I have had one, Boy?"

"Oh, I don't know just why, but I am certain! It's there in your lips
when you smile, in your eyes when you are moved, in your voice when you
allow yourself to become reminiscent. You are full of memories that you
have never spoken of to me. And now, Father Paul--now is the accepted