“There is nothing to say, Sir,” he replied; “Your ancient writer merely expresses a truth we are all conscious of. All poets, worthy the name, and all authors, save and except the coldest logicians, deem the world well lost for love.” “More fools they!” said Von Glauben gruffly; “Love is a mere illusion, which is generally destroyed by one simple ceremony--Marriage!” Prince Humphry smiled. “You have never tried the cure, Professor,” he said, “But I daresay you have suffered from the disease! Will you walk with me?” Von Glauben bowed a respectful assent; and the Prince, with a kindly nod of dismissal to De Launay, went on his way, the Professor by his side. Sir Roger watched them as they disappeared, and saw, that at the furthest end of the alley, when they were well out of ear-shot, they appeared to engage in very close and confidential conversation. “I wonder,” he mused, “I wonder what it all means? Von Glauben is evidently mixed up in some affair that he wishes to keep secret from the King. Can it concern Prince Humphry? And The Islands! What can Von Glauben want over there?” His brief meditation was interrupted by a soft voice calling. “Roger!” He started, and at once advanced to meet the approaching intruder, his sister, Teresa de Launay, a pretty brunette, with dark sparkling eyes, one of the favourite ladies of honour in attendance on the Queen. “What were you dreaming about?” she asked, as he came near, “And what is the Prince doing with old Von Glauben?” “Two questions at once, Teresa!” he said, stooping his tall head to kiss her; “I cannot possibly answer both in a breath! But answer me just one--What are you here for?” “To summon _you_!” she answered. “The Queen desires you to wait upon her immediately.” She fixed her bright eyes upon him as she spoke, and an involuntary sigh escaped her, as she noted the touch of pallor that came on his face at her words. “Where is her Majesty?” he asked. “Here--close at hand--in the arbour. She spied you at a distance through the trees, and sent me to fetch you.” “You had best return to her at once, and say that I am coming.” His sister looked at him again, and hesitated--he gave a slight, vexed gesture of impatience, whereupon she hurried away, with flying footsteps as light as those of a fabled sylph of the woodlands. He watched her go, and for a moment an expression came into his eyes of intense suffering--the look of a noble dog who is suddenly struck undeservedly by an unkind master. “She sends for me!” he muttered; “What for? To amuse herself by reading every thought of my life with her cold eyes? Why can she not leave me alone?”