giddy and blind; hardly knowing what he did, he sprang eagerly
forward, when all at once he felt the lean, small hand of Dr. Dean
on his arm and stopped short embarrassed.

"Pardon me!" said the little savant, with a delicate, half-
supercilious lifting of his eyebrows. "But--do you know the
Princess Ziska?"




CHAPTER II.


Gervase stared at him, still dazzled and confused.

"Whom did you say? ... the Princess Ziska? ... No, I don't know
her ... Yet, stay! Yes, I think I have seen her ... somewhere,--in
Paris, possibly. Will you introduce me?"

"I leave that duty to Mr. Denzil Murray," said the Doctor, folding
his arms neatly behind his back ... "He knows her better than I
do."

And smiling his little grim, cynical smile, he settled his
academic cap more firmly on his head and strolled off towards the
ballroom. Gervase stood irresolute, his eyes fixed on that
wondrous golden figure that floated before his eyes like an aerial
vision. Denzil Murray had gone forward to meet the Princess and
was now talking to her, his handsome face radiating with the