Fessenden started slightly, and quick as he was with his words, the Countess noticed it. “The Princess has the cruelty of your sex,” he replied. “She doubtless occupies a very considerable part of her time thinking out new gowns with which to distract us.” “Why don’t you look more hopeless?” whispered Piroska. “Must you have men who wear their hearts upon their sleeves?” “No; but no man can wear a mask forever, unless he is secretly happier than he would have us believe.” “I am always happy; it is a mere matter of temperament.” He paused deliberately and looked at her. “Moreover,” he added, “I have no intention of failing.” And then he joined the group about the Archduchess. They had parted but two hours before, and although he had never been so convinced of her love for him, there had been nothing then of the almost reckless promise which her eyes seemed to flash to his as the movement was made towards the lower end of the room. What did it mean? Had an hour of solitary thought in the dark, before her maids came to dress her, beaten her passion so high that it had overwhelmed her traditions at last, and urged her to take advantage of this opportunity for flight? He turned giddy at the thought and suddenly realized that deeply enamoured as he was with the idea of manipulating princes, his want of the woman extinguished this ambition among others, and that he found incomplete happiness something more than torment. The hall was of immense proportions, and the dining-room being far off, beyond many chill corridors, the table was spread at the end farthest from the doors that opened directly upon a platform in front of the castle. The cannon were still in the embrasures. In the light of the many, yet insufficient, lamps the room with its battle-flags and weapons, its skins and dim hangings embroidered with the old arts of Hungary, so recently revived, was feudal enough to please the most exacting American. “Count,” murmured Alexandra, “if you could only provide an earthquake shock among other phenomena I believe I should no longer resist.” “You need an earthquake,” he replied. “But, of course, I am gratified, and hopeful, at the conquest of the castle.” “I shouldn’t care to live here all the year round, however.” “Heaven forbid! even with the most adored of women. Give me the capitals of the world in winter.” “It is a great comfort to feel that our tastes are so much alike!” And she thought, “The Hungarians may be two-thirds fire and impulse, but no American could take his cues more quickly.”