indescribably beautiful, with the colours of the springtime.

"Do you see the green of those beeches by the water, Paul? Look at
their tenderness, next the dark firs--and then the blue beyond--and
see, there is a copper beech, he is king of them all! I would like to
build a chalet up in some part like that, and come there each year in
May--to read fairy-tales."

For the first time in his life Paul saw with different eyes--just the
beauty of things--and forgot to gauge their sporting possibilities. An
infinite joy was flooding his being, some sensation he had not dreamed
about even, of happiness and fulfilment.

She appeared to him more alluring than ever, and young and gay--as
young as Isabella! And then his thoughts caused him to take in his
breath with a hiss--Isabella--how far away she seemed. Of course he
could never love any one else--but--

"Don't think of it, then," the lady whispered. "Be young like me, and
live under the blue sky."

How was it she knew his thoughts always? He blushed while he
stammered: "No--I won't think of it--or anything but you--Princess."

"Daring one!" she said, "who told you to call me that? The hotel
people have been talking, I suppose."

"No," said Paul, surprised, "I called you Princess just because you
seem like one to me--but now I guess from what you say, you are not
plain Madame Zalenska."