Her ladyship went on: "I don't want to walk, after all. Let us sit here in the corridor and count the prisms in the chandeliers. It's such fun. I've done it often. You can imagine how gay it has been here, dear. Have you heard the latest gossip? Mr. Britt has advanced a new theory. We are to indulge in double barrelled divorce proceedings. As soon as they are over, Mr. Browne and I are to marry. Then we are to hurry up and get another divorce. Then we marry our own husband and wife all over again. Isn't it exciting? Only, of course, it isn't going to happen. It would be so frightfully improper--shocking, don't you know. You see, I should go on living with my divorced husband, even after I was married to Bobby. I'd be obliged to do that in order to give Bobby grounds for a divorce as soon as the estate is settled. There's a whole lot more to Mr. Britt's plan that I can't remember. It's a much gentler solution than the polygamy scheme that Mr. Saunders proposes; I will say that for it. But Deppy has put his foot down hard. He says he had trouble enough getting me to marry him the first time; he won't go through it again. Besides, he loathes grass widows, as Mrs. Browne calls them. Mr. Britt told him he'll be sure to love me more than ever as soon as I become a guileless divorcee. Of course, it's utter nonsense." "A little nonsense now and then is--" began the Princess, and paused amiably. "Is Mr. Chase to stay for lunch?" asked Lady Agnes irrelevantly. "How should I know? I am not his hostess." "Hoity-toity! I've never known you to look like that before. A little dash of red sets your cheeks off--" But Genevra threw up her hands in despair and started toward the stairway, her chin tilted high. Lady Agnes, laughing softly, followed. "It's too bad she's down to marry that horrid little Brabetz," she said to herself, with a sudden wistful glance at the proud, vibrant, loveable creature ahead. "She deserves a better fate than that." Genevra waited for her at the head of the stairway. "Agnes, I'd like you to promise that you will keep your avaricious claws off Mrs. Browne's husband," she said, seriously. "I'll try, my dear," said Lady Agnes meekly. When they reached the garden, they found Deppingham smoking furiously and quite alone. Chase had left some time before, to give warning to the English bank that trouble might be expected. The shadow of disappointment that flitted across Genevra's face was not observed by the others. Bobby Browne and his wife were off strolling in the lower end of the park. "Poor old Deppy," cried his wife. "I've made up my mind to be exceedingly nice to you for a whole day." "I suppose I ought to beat you," he said slowly. "Beat me? Why, pray?"