“I hope not; but if a letter comes to summon me on important businuss, it stands to reason that I must go. I have arranged for the funeral to take place to-morrow afternoon.” “To-morrow? so soon?” cried Nadia. “Sure is it not better that I would be here for ut than not? Your blessud mother knew all about the work I’m on, and she would not have had me leave ut. I am thinking of sending you back to Princess Soudaroff, Nadia. When you came to us she said she would be glad to have you again any time.” Nadia’s heart leapt, but she reproached herself immediately for her gladness. “If you would only let me stay with you, I should like it better.” “Stay with me?” echoed the O’Malachy. “Is it taking on your mother’s part of the work you mean? I’d not have thought you had the gifts for ut.” “Oh no, not that!” said Nadia, earnestly. “Father, won’t you give it up? You have your pay, and you could go back to your regiment, and I could keep house for you.” “Is it settling down to parades and courts-martial she means?” asked the O’Malachy in astonishment. “She might have been Queen of Thracia, and she talks of beginning life again on a linesman’s pay for the two of us, in some dirty hole of a Scythian garruson town! Sure it’s little you know of ut, mademoiselle.” “I don’t mind how dull it is, or how poor we are,” urged Nadia, thrilled with the hope of detaching her father from his present mode of life. “But sure I do,” was his instant response. “How do you think I could enjure ut at all after the life your blessud mother and I have led? You are just five-and-thirty years too late in your praise of poverty.” “But my mother----” began Nadia. He cut her short. “I’d have you remember, Nadia, that what I am your mother made me, and if she did show the white feather just at the end, sure ’twas the first time in her life--or maybe the second,” he added, meditatively; “and ’tis not likely I will change me ways before I’m on me deathbed, as she was. No, I have me work, and I’ll keep to ut. I will write to the Princess about you, and you’ll be better to telegraph to let her know you are coming.” “Not just yet,” pleaded Nadia; “I am very anxious to stay here as long as I can.” The O’Malachy looked pleased. “Sure we’ll not be partud altogether at all,” he said. “If all goes well in Thracia, I’ll come and see you, and we’ll maybe find ut possuble to set up housekeeping together in some place.” Nadia shuddered. “If all went well in Thracia,” meant to her father that when they next met, Caerleon’s blood would be between them. She changed the subject hastily. “Will you telegraph to Louis, father, or shall I?” “Ah, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have um here,” responded the O’Malachy thoughtfully. “But no. Louie is a soldier, and he must not leave his duty. I’ll not have ut said that Michael O’Malachy called his son away from the work he had to do. I’ll write to um meself.”