I had no difficulty in meeting the young lord. In spite of the times we live in, a Jason is still a welcome guest in most houses, and before long he and I were sitting side by side at Mrs. Closmadene's table. The ladies had withdrawn, and we were about to follow them upstairs. Daynesborough was a frank, pleasant fellow, and scorned the affectation of concealing his happiness in the married state. In fact, he seemed to take a fancy to me, and told me that he would like me to come and see him at home. "Then," he said, "you will cease to distrust marriage." "I shall be most glad to come," I answered, "more especially as I want a talk with you." "Do you? About what?" "I have a message for you." "You have a message for me, Mr. Jason? Forgive me, but from whom?" I leaned over toward him, and whispered, "The Princess Ferdinand of Glottenberg." The man turned as white as a sheet, and, gripping my hand, said under his breath: "Hush! Surely you--you haven't--she hasn't sent it?" "Yes, she has," said I. "Good God! After seven years!" General Closmadene rose from his chair. Daynesborough drank off a very large "white-wash," and added: "Come to dinner to-morrow--eight o'clock. We shall be alone; and, for Heaven's sake, say nothing." I said nothing, and I went to dinner, carrying the ruby ring in my breast-pocket. But I began to wonder whether the little princess was quite as childlike as she seemed. Lady Daynesborough dined with us. She was a tall, slender girl; very handsome, and, to judge from her appearance, not wanting in resolution and character. She was obviously devoted to her husband, and he treated her with an affectionate deference that seemed to me almost overdone. It was like the manner of a man who is remorseful for having wounded someone he loves. When she left us, he returned to the table, and, with a weary sigh, said: "Now, Mr. Jason, I am ready." "My task is a very short one," said I. "I have no message except to convey to you the princess' best wishes for your happiness on your marriage, of which she has recently heard, and to give you the ring. Here it is." "Have women no mercy?" groaned he. "I beg your pardon?" said I, rather startled. "She waits seven years--seven years without a word or a sign--and then sends it! And why?" "Because you're married." "Exactly. Isn't it--devilish?" "Not at all. It's strictly correct. She said herself that your wife was the proper person to have the ring now." He looked at me with a bitter smile. "My dear Jason," he said, "I have been flattering your acumen at the expense of your morality. I thought you knew what this meant." "No more than what the princess told me." "No, of course not, or you would not have brought it. When we parted, I gave her the ring, and she made me promise, on my honor as a gentleman, to come to her the moment she sent the ring--to leave everything and come to her, and take her away. And I promised." "And she has never sent till now?"