“Why, you know every one said she must be in love with some other man when she was engaged to the Scythian Prince and looked so miserable. Of course it was Usk, and now Count Mortimer has had him marry her.” “He’ll be real good to her,” said Félicia slowly. “What’s that to you, any way?” was the sharp response. “Oh, I don’t know. Say, Maimie, is the ‘chapel attached to the Grand-Ducal Palace at Molzau’ the same as the Schlosskirche where I’m to be married? No bridesmaids, of course--I do hate that. I always meant to design the cunningest costumes for my bridesmaids. ‘The Marchioness of Caerleon was gowned in panne of an exquisite shade of heliotrope, with the famous family emeralds’--guess she looked just elegant, don’t you? ‘Her Royal Highness Princess Florian of Arragon in _gris argent_ brocade, the corsage almost covered with the magnificent Mohacsy diamonds,’ ‘the Princess Franz Immanuel of Schwarzwald-Molzau’--that’s my cousin Resi, of course--‘in pink satin and pearls.’ What did the Grand-Duchess wear, I’d like to know? Crimson velvet, I guess. ‘The bride’s travelling-dress was trimmed with exquisite Eastern embroidery, sent from Palestine by the bridegroom’s sister, Lady Philippa Mansfield.’ Did Phil mean that for me when she bought it, do you think, Maimie? But there don’t seem to be much to say about her wedding-gown--just that she wore the Caerleon pearls. I guess I shall go one better in gowns, any way.” “I just know you will,” responded Maimie. “Why, you’ll be a queen, Fay.” “That is so.” Félicia’s tone sounded a little wistful. “I can’t seem to feel real happy, Maimie. It’ll be you and me one side, and Michael the other, all the time. Being queen will be just elegant, but---- Michael’s awfully in love with me, but I don’t trust him, and he don’t trust me.” “And Usk you did trust,” cried Maimie, much alarmed by the turn the conversation was taking, “and he marries another girl right away, before you’re married yourself, even. Don’t you see the way it is, Fay? It’s just that he won’t look as if he had been jilted--just pride, and not anything more. He don’t care a red cent for this other girl, but he’s set on making you mad. I wouldn’t have him do it.” “No, I don’t feel mad, only a little sorry. And not real sorry, either, for I wouldn’t go way back now. It’s just that it’s the end, Maimie.” “That’s so, and I’m real glad of it, for you won’t ever be able to reproach yourself about Usk again. And as to Michael, don’t be afraid. We’ll fix him up some way. You and I will have some place just all to ourselves, so’s we can forget all of the stuff the Baroness has been teaching us, and have a good time together, chewing gum and talking the way we choose, and no other person shall come in there.” “And you don’t hate turning into a hired girl?” asked Félicia, rather doubtfully.