“You thought it was when you got him into it.” “I thought it would give him pleasure.” “That’s not a reason for letting people do what isn’t good for them.” “I wasn’t thinking so much about what would be good for him as about what would be bad for some others. He can do as he likes.” “That’s easy to say. They must be persuaded not to call him.” “Persuade them then, dear madam.” “How can I persuade them?” she cried. “If I could do that I wouldn’t have approached you. I’ve no influence, and even if I had it my motives would be suspected. You’re the one to come in.” “Shall I tell them he funks it?” Muniment asked. “He doesn’t—he doesn’t!” she declared. “On what ground then shall I put it?” “Tell them he has changed his opinions.” “Wouldn’t that be rather like denouncing him as a traitor—and doing it hypocritically?” “Tell them then it’s simply my wish.” “That won’t do _you_ much good,” Paul said with his natural laugh. “Will it put me in danger? That’s exactly what I want.” “Yes; but as I understand you, you want to suffer _for_ the people, not by them. You’re very fond of Robinson; it couldn’t be otherwise,” the young man argued. “But you ought to remember that in the line you’ve chosen our affections, our natural ties, our timidities, our shrinkings——” His voice had become low and grave, and he paused a little while the Princess’s deep and lovely eyes, attaching themselves to his face, showed how quickly she had been affected by this unwonted adjuration. He spoke now as if he were taking her seriously. “All those things are as nothing, they must never weigh a feather, beside our service.” She began to draw on her gloves. “You’re a most extraordinary man.” “That’s what Rosy tells me.” “Why don’t you do it yourself?” “Do Hyacinth’s job? Because it’s better to do my own.” “And pray what _is_ your own?” “I don’t know,” said Paul Muniment with perfect equanimity. “I expect to be instructed.” “Have you taken an oath like Hyacinth?” “Ah madam, the oaths _I_ take I don’t tell,” he gravely returned. “Oh _you_——!” she breathed with a deep ambiguous cadence. She appeared to dismiss the question, but to suggest at the same time that he was very abnormal. This imputation was further conveyed by the next words she uttered. “And can you see a dear friend whirled away like that?” At this, for the first time, her visitor showed impatience. “You had better leave my dear friend to me.” The Princess, her eyes still fixed on him, gave a long, soft sigh. “Well then, shall we go?” He took up his hat again, but made no movement toward the door. “If you did me the honour to seek my acquaintance, to ask me to come and see you, only in order to say what you’ve just said about Hyacinth, perhaps we needn’t carry out the form of going to the place you proposed. Wasn’t this only your pretext?”