“Be pleased to speak of my daughter as the Duchesse de Zara.” A throb passed through the yacht. Reggie looked out of the port-hole and saw the water sliding by. “So we’re off,” he smiled. “The yacht sails immediately for Ragusa. I shall not be able to put you ashore, sir. For any discomfort you undergo be pleased to blame yourself and your employer. I see a rashness in your actions which I should have expected from my wife.” Reggie chuckled. “Well, well. And, of course, you don’t like being rash!” “On our arrival at Ragusa you may, if you choose, remain and be present at my daughter’s marriage.” “Oh. Shall I be present, sir?” said Hilda, with a dangerous meekness. “My dear child!” His Highness said affectionately. “Mr. Fortune--you have the happiness to be present at the betrothal of my daughter, the Duchesse de Zara, to my nephew, the Comte de Spoleto.” It was Reggie who preserved an appropriate calm. He only gave one chuckle. “How? But--but it is incredible!” Spoleto cried in French, and recoiled, gesticulating. The Prince flushed and glared at him. Hilda stood up. “This is ridiculous, sir,” she said, and was pale. “Ridiculous, that is the word,” Spoleto cried. “Be silent, Spoleto. My dear child, you do not understand.” “I understand enough. You say you are my father. I think I ought to know my father. I--I do not mind knowing you. But this--it is absurd and insulting. I will not hear any more about it. This gentleman--I know nothing about him.” She surveyed Spoleto with disdain. “I do not wish to make his acquaintance.” “Thank you very much,” Spoleto cried. “Hilda! Be pleased to remember that you are now to do your duty as my daughter. I do not permit disobedience.” “It’s no use to talk so,” said Miss Crowland. “I am not a baby.” His Highness, whose grey hair was becoming dishevelled, made a violent gesture. “English! She is as English as her mother.” “Oh. If you are going to say things against my mother I will go,” said Miss Crowland. “You came from my mother, sir. I should like to speak to you.” Reggie bowed and opened the door for her. As they went out he heard Spoleto say in French, “Do you see, my uncle, this does not do,” and then a storm. The house of Ragusa was divided against itself in throes. On deck, Miss Crowland seemed to have some difficulty in making up her mind what to say. “Does my mother know about this?” she broke out at last. “That’s between you and your conscience, isn’t it?” Reggie smiled. “I haven’t told her anything, but she has never told me anything,” Miss Crowland said fiercely. “How did she come to send you here?” “Some rather odd things happened at school, you know.” “Did they?” said Miss Crowland, in delighted amazement. “What things?”