call, and not prejudice them, by any discourtesy, against
us. The prince is very kind."

"So! The wind is in that quarter?" Jean said, with a
harsh laugh.

She jumped up and went to her own room. She was in a
rage at herself. Why had she not run away to Paris
months ago and begun her great picture of the World's
mother, Eve? There was a career for her! And
thinking--perhaps of Eve--she cried hot salt tears.



CHAPTER XI

A week passed, but the question of the first call was not
yet settled. It required as much diplomacy as an
international difficulty. Furst Hugo represented the
princesses as "burning with impatience to behold the
engelreine Madchen whom they hoped to embrace as a
sister," but no visible sign of their ardor reached Miss
Vance.

On Monday Jean went to spend the day with some of her
artist friends, but at noon she dashed into the room
where Clara and Lucy sat sewing, her dark face blotched
red, and her voice stuttering with excitement.

"I have seen into the cave!" she shouted. I have got at