Mme. Ernemont awaited with anguish the revelation of the secret upon which the girl's future peace might depend. He sat down beside Geneviève, appeared to hesitate, and said at last: "No . . . no . . . just now . . . an idea occurred to me . . . a recollection . . ." "A recollection? . . . And . . ." "I was mistaken. Your story contained certain details that misled me." "Are you sure?" He hesitated and then declared: "Absolutely sure." "Oh," said she, greatly disappointed. "I had half guessed . . . that that man whom I saw twice . . . that you knew him . . . that . . ." She did not finish her sentence, but waited for an answer to the question which she had put to him without daring to state it completely. He was silent. Then, insisting no further, she bent over Mme. Ernemont: "Good night, grandmother. My children must be in bed by this time, but they could none of them go to sleep before I had kissed them." She held out her hand to the prince: "Thank you once more. . . ." "Are you going?" he asked quickly. "Yes, if you will excuse me; grandmother will see you out." He bowed low and kissed her hand. As she opened the door, she turned round and smiled. Then she disappeared. The prince listened to the sound of her footsteps diminishing in the distance and stood stock-still, his face white with emotion. "Well," said the old lady, "so you did not speak?" "No. . . ." "That secret . . ." "Later. . . . To-day . . . oddly enough . . . I was not able to." "Was it so difficult? Did not she herself feel that you were the stranger who took her away twice. . . . A word would have been enough. . . ." "Later, later," he repeated, recovering all his assurance. "You can understand . . . the child hardly knows me. . . . I must first gain the right to her affection, to her love. . . . When I have given her the life which she deserves, a wonderful life, such as one reads of in fairy-tales, then I will speak." The old lady tossed her head: "I fear that you are making a great mistake. Geneviève does not want a wonderful life. She has simple tastes." "She has the tastes of all women; and wealth, luxury and power give joys which not one of them despises." "Yes, Geneviève does. And you would do much better . . ." "We shall see. For the moment, let me go my own way. And be quite easy. I have not the least intention, as you say, of mixing her up in any of my manœuvers. She will hardly ever see me. . . . Only, we had to come into contact, you know. . . . That's done. . . . Good-bye." He left the school and walked to where his motor-car was waiting for him. He was perfectly happy: