"I am very pleased with your success, Princess. But Anne?" She flashed a rather annoyed look at him. "You are scarcely so chivalrous as I thought, Mr. Ware," she said coldly. "No, say nothing; I quite understand. Let us talk of Anne. I will tell you her history." She re-lighted her cigarette, which had gone out, and continued, "Her father was a gambler and a wanderer. He lived mostly on the Continent--Monte Carlo for choice. Anne's mother"--here the Princess paused, and then went on with an obvious effort--"I know nothing of Anne's mother, Mr. Ware. She died when Anne was a child. Mr. Denham brought up his daughter in a haphazard way." "Was his name really Denham?" "So Anne told me. I had no reason to think that it was otherwise. He was a gentleman of good family, but an outcast from his people by reason of his reckless folly. I also am an outcast," said she pleasantly, "but merely because I am strong-minded. I am not foolish." "No, Princess," said Giles, looking keenly at her, "I should certainly not call you foolish." "But I can be foolish on occasions," said she quickly, and flushed as she glanced at him, "like all women. But Anne--I see we must get back to Anne. Well, she, having better moral principles than her father, grew wearied of their wandering life. She decided to become a governess. Mr. Denham put her to school at Hampstead--a sister of Mrs. Cairns keeps the school, and that is why Anne is so intimate with Mrs. Cairns--and when her education was finished she took a situation in Italy. There she remained some years. Afterwards she rejoined her father for a time. He died at Florence--typhoid fever, I believe--and Anne found herself alone. She returned to England, and assisted by Mrs. Cairns, took various situations. She always returned to Mrs. Cairns when out of an engagement. It was on one of these occasions that I met her. We have been friends for a long time, Mr. Ware. Then Anne was engaged by Mrs. Morley, and--and the rest you know. There is no more to be said." "Is that all?" said Giles, disappointed by this bald narrative. The Princess shrugged her shoulders, and throwing aside her cigarette, leaned back with her hands behind her head. "What would you, Mr. Ware? Anne is a good woman. Good women never have any history." "Can you tell me anything about the Scarlet Cross?" "Anne never spoke of such a thing to me. But my friend may be able to tell you. Ah!"--the Princess raised her head as a ring came to the door--"there is my friend. Before his time, too. But we have finished our conversation, Mr. Ware." "For the present, yes." She looked at him suddenly. "But certainly," she said in her vivacious way, "you must come and see me again. We will have much to talk of. You love music. I will sing to you, and----" Here she broke off to greet a new-comer, much to the relief of Giles, who was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "How do you do, Mr. Steel?"