“All went well until they came to the christening of the city, when it transpired that no one had the faintest idea what name to call it. Here was a to-do! Nameless they could not leave so great a city, yet what name would embrace all these marvels of architecture, how could they call so fair a city by any such commonplace kind of label as Rome, Jerusalem or Wapping? Therefore the young prince fell weeping with mortification for that his city must remain nameless just because it was the fairest city in the world, when an ancient man rose up in the assembly and said: ‘This here is not the fairest city in the world. But the magic city of Is in the land of Brittany has got it so beat that this looks like a slum beside it. I have spoken.’ Not that he ever had a chance to again, even though it presently was proved that not the fairest city in the world could be fairer than Is in Brittany, and so the prince made the best of a bad job and called his city the Equal to Is, which is Par-Is, which is Paris. Shall we dance?” But she said: “No, no! They are playing an old-fashioned fox-trot. Besides, one can always dance; there are so many men with whom one can only dance, for what have they to talk about? Duke, I did love your legend of the christening of Paris! Did you make it up?” Now these words had chanced to cast a gloom about the young Duke, and he had said: “But there is another legend, a more private legend. It tells, sister, of the house of Mall, how the golden cock on the weather-vane of St. James’s tower shall crow thrice at the birth of the greatest of the Dukes of Mall. And, although I say it who shouldn’t, this very miracle attended the birth of him who now stands beside you. And the legend further tells that when the golden cock on St. James’s tower again crows thrice the greatest of the Dukes of Mall shall die. Ava, to-night I find myself in fear of my fate. That which is written shall come to pass, and no man may defy the passage of his destiny--but to-night, Ava, I am troubled with a foreboding that the second crowing of that beastly cock is not far distant from this dear moment.” Very sweetly she had tried to soothe his foreboding, but it was heavy in him and he had not listened, saying: “I’ve never but once before been vexed with this depression, and that was on the night of the day I fell in love with Leonora Lamb.” “Let us dance,” she had said shyly, but they had not danced very enjoyably owing to the number of the students of hospitality who were generously supporting Mrs. Omroy Pont on so memorable an occasion. And thus it was on the first night between Miss Ava Lamb and the young Duke of Mall. VI