"Oh, I know," she announced. "There was my great friend, Moravia
Cloudwater, at the Convent. She was older than me, and went to Paris
with her father and married an Italian prince last year. I have heard
from her since, and she has often wanted me to go and stay with her in
Rome--and I shall now. Morri and I are the dearest friends--and her
things did look lovely the day she came to see us at Tours--with the
prince's coronet on them--" and then the first shadow came to her
contentment. "That is the only pity about you--even with a castle, you
haven't a coronet, I suppose?" regretfully. "I should have liked one on
my handkerchiefs and note-paper."

Michael felt his shortcomings.

"The title was taken away when we followed Prince Charlie and we only
got back the land by the skin of our teeth after an awful business so I
am afraid I cannot do that for you--but perhaps," consolingly, "you will
have better luck next time."

This brought some comfort.

"Why, of course! we can get a divorce--as soon as we want. Moravia had
an aunt, who simply went to Sioux Falls and got one at once and married
someone else, so it's not the least trouble. Oh, I am glad you have
thought of this plan. It is clever of you!"

Mr. Arranstoun felt that he was becoming rather too interested in
his--_fiancée_ and time was passing. Her family might discover where she
was--or Henry might return; he must clinch matters finally.