It appeared as though a demon of mischief had taken possession of Maimie that evening. The secretary and Mlle. Mirkovics had discreetly excused themselves after dinner, leaving the family party alone, and the four elders were gathered by the fire, talking. Usk and Félicia occupied a three-cornered settee at a little distance--it was a piece of furniture Usk liked, because the form of the seat obliged him to turn round and rest his arm on the back, if he was to face Félicia in talking to her. Between the two groups, at a little table close to the standard lamp, sat Maimie, looking through the annual volume of an illustrated paper some twenty or thirty years old, which she had disinterred from the library for reasons best known to herself. Occasionally she interjected remarks into the conversation of the party by the fire, enjoying the delightful feeling that she was outraging all etiquette, and yet that no one could rebuke her. It happened that the talk turned upon the escapade of a young member of a German princely family, who had recently disappeared from his home, and was understood to have managed to join the forces opposed to Great Britain in a little war which was then raging. “Well, now, that’s queer!” said Maimie. “Here in this old paper there’s a case of the same sort. Just listen: ‘In connection with the ill-fated Prince Joseph of Arragon, a view of whose yacht, the Claudine, we published a fortnight ago, a Vindobona correspondent sends us a romantic story. It is understood that the official accounts of the Prince’s voyage to the South Seas were merely a blind, and that his journey was in reality a flight, in which he was accompanied by a charming young lady of noble birth, whose musical performances have been the delight of Vindobona this winter. It is even rumoured that they were privately married. However this may be, it is certain that not only Fräulein von Lilienkranz, but her duenna, Frau Schlesinger, and the latter’s daughter Julie, who was her constant attendant, disappeared at the exact time that the Prince’s voyage was announced. The keenest interest was felt here as to the _dénoûment_ of the romance which has been so tragically ended by the Australian billows----.’ Do tell, Fay!” Maimie broke off shrilly. “Julie Schlesinger! mightn’t that be my mother’s name? It caught my eye right away.” “See if there’s a portrait,” suggested Félicia. “Maybe it was your mother in disguise, though I don’t just see how it works out.” “No, there isn’t any. It says you couldn’t buy one in Vindobona--that either the Prince or his family had snapped all of them up, both of him and the lady, and destroyed them. There’s just the ship, two weeks back.” Usk sprang up, as though to look at the picture, but when he was stooping over the book he whispered hastily, “Perhaps you don’t know that Prince Joseph was my aunt’s cousin?”