"You look," she said, half under her breath, "like a man who might be trusted. I will trust you. I will be kinder to you than Louise, for I will tell you all that you want to know. But when I have told you, you will have in your keeping the honour of an unfortunate woman whose name alone is great." Wrayson looked her for a moment in the eyes. Then he bowed low. "Madame," he said, "that trust will be to me my most sacred possession." She smiled at him faintly, nodding her head as though to keep pace with her thoughts. "I believe you, Mr. Wrayson," she said. "Yes, I believe you! Let me tell you this, then. I count it amongst my misfortunes that my own troubles have become in so large a manner the troubles of my friends. You will appreciate that the more, perhaps, when I tell you that Madame de Melbain is not the name by which I am generally known. I am that unfortunate woman the Queen of Mexonia!" CHAPTER XXX THE QUEEN OF MEXONIA Wrayson, who had been prepared for something surprising, was yet startled out of his composure. The affairs of the unhappy Royal House of Mexonia were the property of the world. He half rose to his feet, but Madame de Melbain instantly waved him back again. "My friends," she said, "deem it advisable that my whereabouts should not be known. I certainly am very anxious that my incognita should be preserved." She paused, and Wrayson, without hesitation, answered her unspoken question. Unconsciously, too, he found himself using the same manner of address as the others. "Madame," he said, "whatever you choose to tell me will be sacred." She bowed her head slightly. "I am going to tell you a good deal," she said, glancing across at Louise. Louise opened her lips as though about to intervene. Madame de Melbain continued, however, without a break. "I am going to tell you more than may seem necessary," she said, "because I believe that I am one of those unfortunate persons whose evil lot it is to bring unhappiness upon their friends. So far as I can avoid this, Mr. Wrayson, I mean to. Further--it is possible that I may ask you--presently--to render me a service." Wrayson bowed low. He felt that she was already well aware of his willingness. "First, then, let me tell you," she continued, leaning back in her chair, and looking away across the valley with eyes whose light was wholly reminiscent, "that we three were schoolgirls together, Louise, Amy--whom you know better, perhaps, as the Baroness de Sturm--and myself. We were at a convent near Brussels. There were not many pupils, and we three were friends.... "We had a great deal of liberty--more liberty, perhaps, than our friends would have approved of. We worked, it is true, in the mornings, but in the afternoons we rode or played tennis in the Bois. It was there that I met Prince Frederick, who afterwards became my husband.