couch a little, so."

"Madame is only a little pale," the maid said reassuringly. "That
makes nothing. These Englishwomen have all too much colour. I go to
tell monsieur."

She disappeared, and the Princess lay still upon her couch,
thinking. Soon she heard steps outside, and with a little sigh she
turned her head toward the door. The man who entered was tall, and
of the ordinary type of well-born Englishmen. He was carefully
dressed, and his somewhat scanty hair was arranged to the best
advantage. His features were hard and lifeless. His eyes were just a
shade too close together. The maid ushered him in and withdrew at
once.

"Come and sit by my side, Nigel, if you want to talk to me," the
Princess said. "Walk softly, please. I really have a headache."

"No wonder, in this close room," the man muttered, a little
ungraciously. "It smells as though you had been burning incense
here."

"It suits me," the Princess answered calmly, "and it happens to be
my room. Bring that chair up here and say what you have to say."

The man obeyed in silence. When he had made himself quite
comfortable, he raised her hand, the one which was nearest to him,
to his lips, and afterwards retained it in his own.

"Forgive me if I seem unsympathetic, Ena," he said. "The fact is,