He did not add that the Prince had given several striking reasons for the Lady Sara's interest in Robert Orange. His Excellency, in so acting, may not have been aware that he was pouring such confidences into the ear of a jealous man, but he wished to divert gossip from himself, and he was becoming afraid lest his intimacy with the brilliant, dangerous girl might give rise to criticism. "She talks and writes incessantly about Orange," he had said; "what a marriage it would be! I hope it may be brought about." This suggestion drove Reckage's thoughts toward a fatal survey of the past year. He discovered, as he believed, irresistible proofs of Sara's infatuation, and, what was worse, clear evidence of Robert's sly encouragement of that weakness. Why else had he borne the severance from Mrs. Parflete with such astonishing fortitude? How else did he keep up his spirits in the face of a grotesque, if unfortunate, adventure? The answer was plain enough. Sara's sympathy and the reasonable hopes necessarily attached to so much kindness had sustained him through the bitterness of all his trials. "Have you ever thought," said Reckage, with pretended carelessness, "that Orange's serenity just now is somewhat unnatural? Is it _all_ religion?" "I believe that neither of _us_ can form any conception of his capacity for suffering, or the support he finds in his Belief." "It points to fanaticism, no doubt. He is a Cardinal _in petto_. The Catholics want spirit everywhere, and Orange has got spirit. His vocation lies toward the Vatican. His morals are as good as his build--which is saying much. D'Alchingen was remarking how extraordinarily well set-up he is. He would have done well in the army. He cuts an effective figure." "He is distinguished; would one call him handsome?" "There's a nobility about him, of course. I am wondering whether he is really so clever as many make out. He is learned and thoughtful; he has plenty of pluck and he's the best fellow in the world. But----" "I wish I knew him better," sighed the young lady; "I liked him and believed in him on the strength of your recommendation. That was an immense prejudice in his favour." She looked up with a sweet and trustful smile which would have satisfied a harder adversary than Reckage. He was not so hard, however, as he was egoistic, and it was not a question of softening his heart. Sara had the far more difficult task of soothing his tortured vanity. "I don't know," he said, losing caution, "that I want you to take him up quite so strongly! No one could call him a coxcomb, yet he, not aware of the real cause of your interest, might be over-flattered. He might, eventually, begin to hope----" "What?" she asked, with burning cheeks.