“It is cases of this kind,” said the Princess, with apparent irrelevance, “that make one wish that Scripture and reason allowed us to believe in the efficacy of prayers for the dead.” “It is, indeed,” Caerleon assented heartily, although wondering a little at the turn the conversation was taking. But when the Princess spoke next, she had changed the subject again. “My poor Nadia is very much alone in the world,” she remarked. “Now that her father has cast her off, she has really no relations left.” “Is the O’Malachy acting the Roman father?” asked Caerleon. “I was surprised that he took no part in the rebellion.” “He has been laid up with a bad attack of gout at a little town in Scythian Sarmatia,” said the Princess, “and no doubt his illness has saved his life. He must have heard from his son the reason for the failure of the plot which you mention, for Nadia has received a long letter from him, containing the promise of his dying curse, and declaring that from thenceforward she was no daughter of his.” “She could have worse spared a better father,” said Caerleon. The Princess smiled. “That is exactly my idea. No doubt it is selfish of me, but I cannot but rejoice that Colonel O’Malachy has cast her off so unequivocally. When she came to me first, as a little child, I was always afraid that a day would come when her parents would claim her again, and, as you know, they did.” “And I’m afraid that I can’t say I’m sorry for it,” said Caerleon. “It was to my advantage, you see, for if Miss O’Malachy had remained in Scythia with your Highness, I might never have met her--nor yourself, madame,” he added, hastily. “I did not know that Englishmen were so fond of paying compliments,” said the Princess, looking surprised. “However, as I was about to remark, it is a great happiness to me to know that my god-daughter is altogether mine from henceforth.” “I--I’m afraid you don’t quite understand what I wanted to say,” said Caerleon, desperately. “I don’t know whether she has told you, but it doesn’t seem right for me to be staying in your house without your knowing it--I mean that I have twice asked Miss O’Malachy to marry me.” “You are candid,” said the Princess, smiling. “Nadia has told me of your obliging offer, I assure you. May I ask whether this plain speaking is intended as a prelude to a third proposal?” “I wish it might be! But that must depend upon circumstances.” “I see. Your Majesty is a prudent lover.” “But you don’t see what I mean,” persisted Caerleon. “I can’t be certain until I know whether I am still King of Thracia or not.” “Then you consider that Nadia is good enough to be your wife, but not to be your queen?”