Giles growled at this speech, being clever enough to see through the artifices of Mademoiselle Olga. "The house is as old as the Tudors," he expostulated; "your mother should look at a more modern one." "Oh, no," replied Olga sweetly. "I am sure she will be delighted with this one; it is so picturesque." "I am afraid that I promised to pay a visit this afternoon." "Ah, you must put it off, Mr. Ware. When two ladies come to see you, you really cannot leave them alone." "If the next day will do----" "I don't think it will. My mother and I leave the next day. She is due in town to a reception at the Austrian Embassy." Ware made other excuses, but Olga would listen to none of them. She stopped all the morning and looked at the pictures, but she never referred to their conversation of the previous night. There was a tacit understanding between them that it should remain in abeyance until the time given for the reply of Giles was ended. Still, Ware could not forget that burning kiss, and was awkward in consequence. Not so Olga. She was quite cool and self-possessed, and although alone with him for close on two hours, did not show the least confusion. Giles, much disgusted, called her in his own mind "unmaidenly." But she was not that, for she behaved very discreetly. She was simply a woman deeply in love who was bent on gaining her ends. Considering the depth of her passion, she restrained herself very creditably when with the man she loved. Giles now saw how it was that she had defied her family and had taken her own way in life. "I won't stop to luncheon," she said, when he asked her; "but I and my mother will come over at three o'clock." It was now close on two. "I am sure we shall have a pleasant afternoon." Giles tried to smile, and succeeded very well, considering what his feelings were at the moment. If he could only have behaved brutally, he would have refused the honor of the proposed visit, but it is difficult to be rude to a charming woman bent upon having her own way. Ware kicked as a man will, but ended in accepting the inevitable. Olga returned to the inn, and found the Princess seated on the sofa fanning herself violently. Mrs. Morris was in the room, fluttering nervously as she laid the cloth for luncheon. Olga looked at her mother. "Did you take your walk?" she asked. The Princess nodded. "I am very warm," she said. "What do you think now?" asked her daughter impatiently. "I think that you are a very clever woman, Olga," replied the Princess; "but I am too hungry to talk just now. When I have eaten and am rested we can speak." "But just one word. Am I right?" "Perfectly right."