"He was here for some time," the Princess said, "and he is coming back." "In the meantime," Andrew continued, "he appears to have vanished from the face of the earth." The Princess turned away carelessly. "That," she said, "is scarcely our affair. I have not the slightest doubt but that he will turn up again." "If it should turn out that I am mistaken," Andrew said stiffly, "I should be glad to ask your pardons, but from my present information I can only say I do not care to extend the hospitality of my house to Major Forrest, nor do I consider him a fit associate, madam, for you and your step-daughter." "May I ask," the Princess inquired, "who Major Forrest's traducers have been?" "My information," Andrew answered, "comes from the Duke of Westerham. I have every reason to believe that the case against him has been understated." "The Duke," Cecil declared, "is a pig-headed old fool!" Andrew shrugged his shoulders. "I have always found him a man of remarkably keen judgment," he said. "What are you going to do about Jeanne?" the Princess asked, changing the subject abruptly. "I should suggest," Andrew answered, "that you have a maid pack a bag and prepare to go with me over to the island early in the morning. There is no chance to cross before then, as the tide would be high." "But how nervous she will be there all alone!" the Princess exclaimed. "My servant is there," Andrew answered, "and also an old woman who cooks for me. They will, I am sure, do everything they can to make her comfortable. I shall go myself and bring her back here as soon as it is daylight." "We are giving you a great deal of trouble, I am afraid, Mr. De la Borne," the Princess said stiffly. "To-morrow, as soon as my maid can pack, we will return to London." Andrew bowed as he turned to leave the room. "I trust," he said, "that you will not let my presence interfere with your plans. I shall remain on the island myself to-morrow, after I have brought your daughter back." CHAPTER XX Jeanne awoke the next morning to find herself between lavender scented sheets in a small iron bedstead, with a soft sea-wind blowing in through the half-open window. Her maid was ready to wait upon her, and her bath was of salt water fresh from the sea. She descended to find Andrew at work in the garden, the sun already high in the heavens, and the sea as blue and placid as though the storm of the night before were a thing long past and forgotten. "I am never going away," she declared, as they sat at breakfast. "I take your rooms, Monsieur Andrew. I will import as many chaperons as you please, but I will not leave this island." "I am afraid," he answered smiling, "that there are other people who would have something to say about that. Your stepmother is already anxious. I have promised that you shall be back at the Hall by ten o'clock." The gaiety suddenly faded from her face. Her lips, which had been curved in laughter, quivered. "You mean that?" she faltered.