interfere, and talks about it, and bothers you both. But with
a Princess, you see, that is all eliminated. You can't marry
a Princess, because they won't let you. A Princess has got to
marry a real royal chap, and so you are perfectly ineligible
and free to sigh for her, and make pretty speeches to her, and
see her as often as you can, and revel in your devotion and
unrequited affection."

Miss Morris regarded him doubtfully. She did not wish to
prove herself too credulous. "And you honestly want me, Mr.
Carlton, to believe that you are going abroad just for this?"

"You see," Carlton answered her, "if you only knew me better
you would have no doubt on the subject at all. It isn't the
thing some men would do, I admit, but it is exactly what any
one who knows me would expect of me. I should describe it,
having had acquaintance with the young man for some time, as
being eminently characteristic. And besides, think what a
good story it makes! Every other man who goes abroad this
summer will try to tell about his travels when he gets back to
New York, and, as usual, no one will listen to him. But they
will HAVE to listen to me. `You've been across since I saw
you last. What did you do?' they'll ask, politely. And then,
instead of simply telling them that I have been in Paris or
London, I can say, `Oh, I've been chasing around the globe
after the Princess Aline of Hohenwald.' That sounds
interesting, doesn't it? When you come to think of it,"
Carlton continued, meditatively, "it is not so very remarkable.
Men go all the way to Cuba and Mexico, and even to India,
after orchids, after a nasty flower that grows in an