“Exit Viscount Usk!” said Maimie, and read aloud from the paper she was scanning: “‘Viscount Usk left Nice for England on Wednesday. During the present parliamentary session he will act as private secretary to his father, the Marquis of Caerleon, to whom, as a leading light of the Temperance party, it has fallen to pilot the Anti-Tied-Houses Bill through the House of Lords.’ That ends a chapter, Fay.” “Well, I hope you’re right happy now. You’ve destroyed the one chance I had of being a good woman, and don’t you forget it.” “I didn’t know you had aspirations that way; but I guess Lady Caerleon would receive you with open arms even now if you went back to her properly penitent.” “Not I--but I wish I cared for Usk either more or less. If I didn’t care for him, I wouldn’t mind his going; and if I was really in love with him, I wouldn’t have had him go.” “You don’t care for him,” said Maimie decisively. “If you did, a crown wouldn’t have tempted you. You just felt sort of safe with him, knowing that he would be kind and fair all the time, whatever you might do. And just tell me what would have happened if I hadn’t helped you get rid of him? When the Grand-Duke said he understood you were betrothed to the son of the Marquis of Caerleon, and that in view of such an honourable alliance the Emperor might be willing to acknowledge your father as morganatically married, and give you a patent of nobility--didn’t that show you where you stood? You were on the very point of losing everything. If we hadn’t been able to tell him that there had been some thought of such a thing once, but you had broken it off because Usk objected to your pressing the claim, you’d have been just simply left!” “That’s so,” responded Félicia. “It’s as well to be through with it, any way. I love that old Grand-Duke--he’s a real nice man.” The liking was mutual, although Félicia had said things to the Grand-Duke which would have made Helene’s hair stand on end with horror if she had heard them. “But I can’t just see why he don’t have his wife and daughter call on us.” “Why, it isn’t advisable yet. They can’t treat you as a princess before you are one, and they’d think you wouldn’t just choose to be treated as a no-account person. Say, Fay! she’s betrothed--that little plain girl.” Maimie was still glancing over the paper. “Do you remember the evil-looking Scythian that was riding in the Grand-Duchess’s carriage yesterday--the dark man with the beard? That’s the happy man. ‘A marriage has been arranged, and will take place at Molzau shortly after Easter, between the Grand-Duke Ivan Petrovitch of Scythia and the Princess Helene, youngest and only unmarried daughter of the Grand-Duke and Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau.’” “Shortly after Easter? Then we won’t see it!” cried Félicia. “I do think these folks might hustle things a little. To keep me waiting months this way, and not even let me stay here, is just horrid!”