"I left Jamaica when I was twenty-two," explained the Princess, while her daughter frowned. For some reason Olga did not seem to approve of these confidences. "Prince Karacsay was travelling there. He came to my father's plantation, and there he married me. I am sorry I did not marry someone in Jamaica," she finished lazily. "My dear mother," broke in her daughter petulantly, "you have always been happy in Vienna and at the Castle." "At the castle, yes. It was so quiet there. But Vienna, ach! It is too gay, too troublesome." "You don't like noise and excitement, Princess?" She shook her imperial head with the gesture of an angry queen. "I like nothing but rest. To be in a hammock with a cigarette and to hear the wind bend the palms, the surf break on the shores. It is my heaven. But in Hungary--no palms, no surf. Ach!" She made a face. "You are different to Mademoiselle Olga here," said Ware, smiling. "Quite different," cried Olga, with a gay laugh. "But I am like my father. He is a bold hunter and rider. Ah, if I had only been born a man! I love the saddle and the gun. No wonder I got away from the dull Society life of Vienna, where women are slaves." "I like being a slave, if rest is slavery," murmured her mother. "Would not your father let you ride and shoot, Mademoiselle Olga?" "Ah yes, in a measure. But he is an Austrian of the old school. He does not believe in a woman being independent. My mother, who is obedient and good, is the wife he loves." "The Prince has been very kind to me. He does not trouble me." "He wouldn't let the air blow too roughly on you, mother," said Olga, with a scornful laugh. "He is a descendant of those Magyars who had Circassian slaves, and adores them as playthings. I am different." "You are terribly _farouche_, Olga," sighed the elder woman. "Your father has forgiven you, but he is still annoyed. I had the greatest difficulty in getting his permission to come over here." "He doubtless thinks you will be able to bring me back to marry Count Taroc," replied Olga composedly, "but I stay." She looked at Giles again, as if he were the reason she thus decided. To change the conversation he stood up. "I fear I fatigue you ladies," he said, looking very straight and handsome. "You will wish to retire." "Certainly I retire," said the Princess. "But my daughter----" "I shall stop and talk with Mr. Ware." "Olga!" murmured her mother, rather shocked. "I fear I have to go," said Giles uneasily. "No. You must stop. I have to talk to you about Anne." "Who is this Anne?" asked the Princess, rising lazily. "No one you know, mother. A friend of Mr. Ware's. Now you must retire, and Katinka shall make you comfortable." "You will not be long, Olga? If your father knew--" "My father will not know," broke in her daughter, leading the elder woman to the door. "You will not tell him. Besides," (she shrugged), "we women are free in England. What would shock my father is good form in this delightful country."