was easier, in the face of such an appeal as her eyes made to
the best in every one, for each to act a part while he was
with her. She was young, impressionable, and absolutely
inexperienced. As a little girl she had lived on a great
ranch, where she could gallop from sunrise to sunset over her
own prairie land, and later her life had been spent in a
convent outside of Paris. She had but two great emotions, her
love for her father and for the Church which had nursed her.
Her father's death had sanctified him and given him a place in
her heart that her mother could not hold, and when she found
herself at twenty-one the mistress of a great fortune, her one
idea as to the disposal of it was to do with it what would
best please him and the Church which had been the ruling power
in the life of both of them. She was quite unconscious of her
beauty, and her mode of speaking was simple and eager.

She halted as she came near the King, and resting her two
hands on the top of her lace parasol, nodded pleasantly to him
and to the others. She neither courtesied nor offered him her
hand, but seemed to prefer this middle course, leaving them to
decide whether she acted as she did from ignorance or from
choice.

As the King stepped forward to greet her mother, Miss Carson
passed him and moved on to where the Father Superior stood
apart from the others, talking earnestly with the Prince.
What he was saying was of an unwelcome nature, for Kalonay's
face wore an expression of boredom and polite protest which
changed instantly to one of delight when he saw Miss Carson.
The girl hesitated and made a deep obeisance to the priest.