“You may as well wait out here for a minute or two,” said Cyril. “I must explain the origin of your facial adornments, and I’m afraid you would blush yourself to death if you were listening. How many years is it, I wonder, since I was able to blush? I’ll call you in when I have finished.” In this considerate intention Cyril was foiled by Usk and Philippa, who had been watching for his approach from the verandah, and came to meet him. Mansfield showed signs of a desire to escape, but Cyril seized him again and explained briefly that the fellow had saved his life, and had repented of the deed ever since. Having thus placed matters on a right footing, he went into the house to find the Princess, leaving the three young people together, Usk, with awestruck face, plying Mansfield with every conceivable variety of question. As for Philippa, the tears which threatened to overflow forbade her speaking, but she proffered timidly such little services as occurred to her, seating the hero in an easy-chair, and bringing him, in spite of his protests, a cushion and a footstool. When her further suggestions had been gratefully but firmly declined, she sat down and gazed at him with an expression that made the young man’s heart beat wildly. “Oh, I say, Lady Phil,” he protested incoherently; “you mustn’t make so much of it. It wasn’t anything, really.” “He would have been killed but for you,” persisted Philippa; “and you are dreadfully hurt.” “Nothing but a bruise, truly; and these scratches on my face--not half as bad as those German fellows get in their college duels. I’m ashamed to be tied up so aggressively; but the doctor would do it.” “Of course,” said Philippa wisely. “And you ought to be proud of your pieces of plaster. I am.” “No accounting for tastes,” said Usk; for Mansfield was unable to do more than beam gratefully upon Philippa. “Did you get any chance of paying back the chap that threw the stone, old man?” While Mansfield was fighting the battle o’er again in answer to the questions showered upon him, Cyril had found his way to Princess Soudaroff’s sitting-room. The old lady looked up with a smile as he entered. “We were expecting you,” she said. “After the blood-curdling note you sent me, you couldn’t well do less, Princess. Please relieve my mind as soon as possible. What is wrong?” “It was a conversation I had with Philippa that made me send for you. Have you noticed how unhappy she has been looking lately?” Cyril shook his head solemnly. “Princess, Princess, if you have got a clergyman concealed in the next room, and want me to let my secretary marry Phil on the spot, I must tell you frankly I won’t do it. It wouldn’t be fair to Caerleon and Nadia.”