again and gazed critically and severely at the face of the
princess with the high-bred smile. He had hoped that he would
find it less interesting at a second glance, but it did not
prove to be so.

"`The Princess Aline of Hohenwald,'" he read. "She's probably
engaged to one of those Johnnies beside her, and the
Grand-Duke of Hohenwald behind her must be her brother." He
put the paper down and went into luncheon, and diverted
himself by mixing a salad dressing; but after a few moments he
stopped in the midst of this employment, and told the waiter,
with some unnecessary sharpness, to bring him the last copy of
the St. James Budget.

"Confound it!" he added, to himself.

He opened the paper with a touch of impatience and gazed long
and earnestly at the face of the Princess Aline, who continued
to return his look with the same smile of amused tolerance.
Carlton noted every detail of her tailor-made gown, of her
high mannish collar, of her tie, and even the rings on her
hand. There was nothing about her of which he could fairly
disapprove. He wondered why it was that she could not have
been born an approachable New York girl instead of a princess
of a little German duchy, hedged in throughout her single
life, and to be traded off eventually in marriage with as much
consideration as though she were a princess of a real kingdom.

"She looks jolly too," he mused, in an injured tone; "and so
very clever; and of course she has a beautiful complexion.