It was some time before he met the Princess again, for an autumn session of Parliament required migration to Portland Place. The Princess, indeed, came to London, shortly afterwards, to her great house in Berkeley Square; but it was not till late November that he was fortunate enough to see her. Then it was only a kiss of the hand and a hurried remark or two, at a large dinner-party at the Winwoods'. You see, there are such forces as rank and precedence at London dinner-parties, to which even princesses and fortunate youths have to yield. On this occasion, as he bent over her hand, he murmured: "May I say how beautiful you are to-night, Princess?" She wore a costume of silver and deep blue, and the blue intensified the blue depths of her eyes. "I am delighted to please monsieur," she said in French. And that was their meeting. On parting she said again in French: "When are you coming to see me, fickle one?" "Whenever you ask me. I have called in vain." "You have a card for my reception next Tuesday?" "I have replied that I do myself the honour of accepting the Princess's gracious invitation." "I don't like London, do you?" she asked, allowing a touch of wistfulness to inflect her voice. "It has its charms. A row on the Serpentine, for instance, or a bicycle ride in Battersea Park." "How lovely it would be," she said, between laugh and sigh, "if only it could be kept out of the newspapers! I see it from here under the Fashionable Intelligence. 'The beautiful Princess Zobraska was observed in a boat on the ornamental water in Regent's Park with the well-known--tiens--what are you?--politician, say--with the well-known young politician, Mr. Paul Savelli.' Quel scandale, hein?" "I must content myself with kissing your finger tips at your reception," said Paul. She smiled. "We will find a means," she said. At her reception, an assemblage glittering with the diamonds and orders of the great ones of the earth, she found only time to say: "Come to-morrow at five. I shall be alone." Darkness descended on Paul as he replied: "Impossible, Princess. Colonel Winwood wants me at the House." The next morning, greatly daring, he rang her up; for a telephone stood on the Fortunate Youth's table in his private sitting-room in Portland Place. "It is I, Princess, Paul Savelli." "What have you to say for yourself, Paul Savelli?" "I am at your feet." "Why can't you come to-day?" He explained. "But tell Colonel Winwood that I want you"--the voice was imperious. "Would that be wise, Princess?" "Wise?" "Yes. Don't you see?" He waited for an answer. There was blank electric current whirring faintly on his ear. He thought she had rung off--rung off not only this conversation, but all converse in the future. At last, after the waiting of despair, came the voice, curiously meek. "Can you come Friday?" "With joy and delight." The words gushed out tempestuously. "Good. At five o'clock. And leave your John Bull wisdom on the doorstep."