"I can not tell him," cried her Highness miserably, "I simply can not.
You must do it, Betty. It is now absolutely necessary that he should
know everything; it is absolutely vital that he be present. Perhaps
Heaven has sent him. Do you understand? Now, tell him!"

And, wonders to behold! she who but a few minutes gone had been a
princess in everything, cold, seeing, tranquil, she fled from the room.
(Decidedly this was growing interesting. What had they done?) Thus,
the Honorable Betty Moore and his Excellency, the American consul at
Barscheit, were left staring into each other's eyes fully a minute.

"You will, of course, pledge me your word of honor?" She who had
recently been timid now became cool and even-pulsed.

"If in pledging it I am asked to do nothing to discredit my office. I
am not an independent individual,"--smiling to put her more at ease.
(I haven't the least doubt that I would have committed any sort of
folly had she required it of me.)

"You have my word, sir, that you will be asked to do nothing
dishonorable. On the other hand, you will confer a great favor upon
her Highness, who is in deep trouble and is seeking a way to escape it."

"Command me," said I promptly.

"Her Highness is being forced into marriage with a man who is old
enough to be her grandfather. She holds him in horror, and will go to
any length to make this marriage an impossibility. For my part, I have
tried to convince her of the futility of resisting her royal uncle's