“By abdicating? Has Drakovics come to that already? I haven’t. I don’t mean to give up Thracia without a little fighting, unless they can find a better man whom the people will accept.” “Something much more heroic than abdicating. There is a lady in the case. Marriage is the gulf.” “Then I fear the gulf will remain unfilled,” said Caerleon, turning back to his papers. “Oh, that’s all fudge. You know it’s the only thing to be done.” “There’s no need to discuss the subject,” said Caerleon, coldly. “You know what I feel about it.” “But what is the good of wearing the willow all your life----?” “I have already said that I decline to discuss the subject with you,” said Caerleon, and Cyril saw that in speaking calmly he was putting a very strong constraint upon himself. He changed his tone instantly. “Oh, very well. Of course I have no right to complain if you tell Drakovics things you won’t tell me. Still, it’s rather rough on a man.” “What do you mean? You know perfectly well that nothing is further from my thoughts than to discuss my private affairs with Drakovics.” “Oh, I suppose you call this a public affair,” returned Cyril, with the air of a man who has neither time nor inclination for such nice distinctions. “I don’t want to appear inquisitive, but perhaps you’ll let me know the day when it’s fixed?” “Cyril, are you mad? or is this a particularly feeble joke? Tell me what you are driving at.” “Of course it’s no business of mine,” Cyril went on, unheeding; “but when you have gone so far as to authorise Drakovics to make proposals in your name for the hand of a lady, I think I might have been told.” “I send a proposal? and through Drakovics? You must be dreaming. Who is the lady?” “Princess Ottilie of Mœsia.” “A girl I have never spoken to in my life!” Caerleon’s tone was one of hopeless bewilderment. “Oh yes, you have. You danced with her at the State ball two years ago, when the Mœsias visited England, don’t you remember? The King looked on and smiled approvingly, and the chaperons began to put their heads together and discuss seriously the best way of preventing foreign royalties from carrying off the biggest things in the marriage market. I believe they came to the conclusion that no princess ought ever to be allowed to marry a subject. With princes it was different, of course. You can’t have forgotten?” “I remember her--a black-eyed, rather bouncing girl. But you don’t mean,” and Caerleon grew hot and cold as the recollection came back to him of the chaff he had endured from his friends on account of the unmistakable favour shown him by the royal guests,--“you don’t mean that they are on the track of that foolery again? They must be made to understand at once that it’s absolutely impossible. You never believed it?” “I was very glad to hear it.” “What! when you know that it’s less than a month since I asked Nadia O’Malachy to marry me, and that I would willingly chuck up the kingdom to-day if she would only take me?”