“So you deliberately drove off and left the prince, eh? And she didn't sulk or call you a nasty, horrid beast? I don't know what the devil you want me here for if you've got such a start as that. Seems to me I'll be in the way, more or less,” said Dickey, when the story reached a point where, to him, finis was the only appropriate word. “That's the deuce of it, Dickey. I can't say that I've got a safe start at all, even with her, and I've certainly got some distance to go before I can put the prince out of the running. You may think this is a nice, easy, straightaway race, but it isn't. It's going to be a steeplechase, and I don't know the course. I'm looking for a wide ditch at any turn, and I may get a nasty fall. You see, I've some chance of getting my neck broken before I get to the stretch.” “And some noted genius will be grinding out that Lohengrin two-step just about the time you get within hearing distance, too. You won't be two-stepping down the aisle at St. Gudule, but you'll agree that it's a very pretty party. That will be all, my boy--really all. I don't want to discourage you and I'm willing to stay by you till that well-known place freezes over, but I think an ocean voyage would be very good for you if you can arrange to start to-morrow.” “If you're going into this thing with that sort of spirit, you'll be a dead weight and I'll be left at the post,” said Quentin, ruefully. “Was the prince at the house when you returned from the drive?” “No; and Mrs. Garrison almost glared a hole through me. There were icicles on every word when she told poor Dorothy he had been there and would return this evening.” “Was she satisfied to finish the drive with you after she had seen the prince?” Quentin had not told him of the conversation which followed her demand to be taken home. “She was very sensible about it,” he admitted, carefully. “You see, she had an engagement with me, and as a lady she could not well break it. We got along very nicely, all things considered, but I'm afraid she won't go out again with me.” “She won't slam the door in your face if you go to the house, will she?” “Hardly,” said the other, smiling. “She has asked me to come. The prince likes me, it seems.” “But he likes to be alone with her, I should say. Well, don't interfere when he is there. My boy, give him a chance,” said Dickey, with a twinkle.