“Madame, it is too sad for words,” returned Cyril, in the perfunctory tone of one who finds it incumbent upon him to sympathise in a matter for which he has no sympathy. The Princess noticed his manner with marked satisfaction. “Alas, Count! I have bored you. You must forgive me. My poor cousin and I have always been such devoted friends. But tell me how you have settled your dispute with England?” “Without difficulty, madame. The day after my letter reached the Duchess of Old Sarum, Mr Forfar, speaking in London, took occasion to dissociate himself and the Government from the views expressed by Lord Ormsea, and very soon afterwards Lord Ormsea himself, in fear of losing his post, explained that his words were to be understood only in a Pickwickian sense. The slight fall in Consols was so adroitly managed that it seemed the result rather of public alarm than of a Jewish _coup de main_, and British opinion has definitely ranged itself on our side.” “Good generalship usually meets with good fortune,” said the Princess, with a smile that converted the truism into an infinitely flattering compliment. “You are too kind, madame. May I hope for your good wishes in the next little difficulty that lies before me?” “Indeed you have them, Count. But what is this new trouble?” “I am obliged to leave for Vindobona to-morrow, madame. One of our agents, whose name you may have heard, the scientist Texelius, has contrived to embroil himself with the Vindobona University, and the citizens, whose sympathies are strongly Anti-Semitic, are making a racial question of the matter.” “And you leave to-morrow?” said the Princess, with an irritation which she made no attempt to conceal. “It seems quite impossible for me to keep in touch with your movement as I was hoping to do.” “If I might have the honour of waiting upon you on my return, madame, it would be my delight to report such success as I may meet with. Your wonderful sympathy and kindness----” “Oh, pray come, Count. You are not mistaken. I am deeply interested--perhaps more than is altogether wise,” she sighed. “You don’t know what a practical proof I have just given you of my sympathy. I have instructed my son Kazimir to withdraw from the candidature which was so embarrassing to you.” “Madame, I am overwhelmed. When you graciously offered to exert your influence on our behalf, I little dreamed of this.” “It is a sacrifice, I don’t deny,” said the Princess, sighing again. “With my son enthroned at Jerusalem, I should have little left to wish for. You know that in crusading times the Kings of Jerusalem were said to wear the crown of the world? But I felt it my duty, Count. Kazimir is too young, too inexperienced, for such a post. He would be merely the mouthpiece of Scythia, and I fear your poor Jews would be as badly off as they are now. Besides,” her eyes met Cyril’s, “there is a man who ought to be appointed, and he is not Kazimir.”