seem that a bit of Hugo's stubborn independence had come down to me. As for Courtney, the shrug of his shoulders was very eloquent of what he thought of such independence.

"Perchance you never heard of a certain letter dispatched to Hugo by his brother, Frederick, after Henry's death?" the King asked.

"And delivered by his Ambassador," I supplemented.

"The same. Hugo, too, seems to have kept a journal."

"He kept the letter itself, and a copy of his answer," I added.

The King laughed. "Altogether, Hugo must have been a rare fine fellow, with a mind of his own."

"He was a son of Henry the Third," I answered.

The King nodded. "Yet 'twas a pity he did not accept Frederick's offer."

"I fancy the new life was more to his mind."

"Doubtless,—but, had he returned, it would be you and not Ferdinand of Lotzen who would be the Heir Presumptive of Valeria."

I smiled. "Had he returned I would not be I."

"True enough," said he. "But think of the crown of your ancestors that might be yours."

"It is enough to be a Dalberg. I have never thought of the crown," I answered.

"There spoke the son of Hugo," he said.

Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember that we were not alone, and, springing up, he sought out Courtney, who, though unable to get out of ear-shot, had courteously retired to the remotest corner of the room.

"My dear Courtney," he exclaimed. "I have been unpardonably rude. I forgot you completely. Yet, you brought it on yourself; you should have prepared me for my cousin."

But Courtney had his part to play. He must keep the American Ambassador free from fault.

"Major Dalberg never disclosed his relationship to your Majesty," he said, formally; "else, as you are well aware, he could not have been given the detail without your express permission. As it is, I shall be obliged to report the matter to my Government and——"

"Do so, by all means, if it will keep your records clear," the King cut in, in the same formal tone; "but be careful, at the same time, to say to your State Department that we shall deem it a personal affront if our Kinsman be recalled. And, now, sir," he went on with an amused smile and dropping the conventional air, "confess it. Didn't you suspect the relationship?"

"I have been a guest at the Court of Valeria too often not to have noted a certain resemblance," Courtney admitted readily. Then, like a good fellow, he set me right. "But, be assured, Your Majesty, not I nor I believe anyone, has ever heard Major Dalberg speak of his royal descent; though I admit I have tried hard to draw him to it."

The King looked at me and nodded in approval.

"It is a law of the family, laid down by Hugo himself," I explained. "Though, of course, our silence does not prevent anyone from proving the fact who investigates our genealogy," and I glanced significantly at Courtney.

This time it was he who doubled his fist at me.

Then a door behind me opened and I heard the trail of a gown—whose, it was easy to guess. Only one woman could have the privilege of entering the King's presence unbidden.

As Courtney and I arose and stepped back, the Princess halted uncertainly.

"Come, Dehra," said the King. "You know the American Ambassador."

Courtney bowed, but the Princess held out her hand, saying cordially:

"We are glad to welcome Mr. Courtney here as a resident."

Courtney made some fitting reply,—there was always one on the end of his tongue. And then the King turned to me.

"Major Dalberg," he said, "salute your cousin."

I do not know which cousin was the more startled, but I am quite sure which was the more embarrassed. In truth, for a moment, I was too confused to move. The one thought that kept pounding through my brain was: "What am I expected to do?" Frederick had saluted me with a kiss; was it possible he meant me to kiss Dehra! I glanced across at Courtney,—he was struggling to suppress his merriment,—then back at the Princess; and caught what I was fool enough to imagine was a look of glad surprise. She had recognized and remembered me.

That settled it. I stepped forward and deliberately kissed her on the cheek.

The next instant my mouth stung with the blow of an open hand, and I was looking down into the flashing eyes and flaming face of the Princess.

It was quite evident I had not been expected to kiss her.

"Sir!" she exclaimed. "Sir!" And with each word she seemed to strike me afresh. Then words failed her, and with another gesture of disdain she gave me her back.

"Your Majesty, who is this——?" she began.

Then she stopped and I heard her catch her breath. The next moment, with high-held head she swept by me and from the room. And with her going crumbled all the bright castles I had builded on the memories of that ride in the forest, six years before.

Of course I had been a silly fool. The fiend himself must have possessed me. But I had kissed her, and that was something to remember,—though, doubtless, that itself but proved me the greater idiot. All this and much more whirled through my mind in the moment of the Princess's leaving; then I turned, expecting to face the scorn of the King,—and found him wiping the tears from his eyes and shaking with laughter.

So this was what had seat Dehra from the room in anger. And, straightway, the skies brightened. Plainly, if her father were not offended, I might yet make my peace with her.

Then I, too, began to smile. Doubtless there was a funny side to it; though it seemed to be more evident to the spectators than to me. At any rate, the King still laughed, and so did Courtney; though quietly and discreetly. His, I admit, I did not relish; so I spoke.

"I am very sorry, Your Majesty; I meant no offence——" I began.

"Nonsense, Major," the King interrupted. "You gave none."

"Indeed!" I said, and rubbed my mouth.

"Oh, don't hold that against the Princess," he chuckled.

"She didn't hit half hard enough." I said. "She should have knocked me down."

He shook his head. "She misunderstood the whole matter. I forgot she, doubtless, knows nothing of the American branch of the House; so, my calling you cousin conveyed no meaning, if indeed she even heard it. She simply thought you a presumptuous stranger."

"And so I am."

He waved the idea aside. "You are her nearest male relative after myself."

"That may mitigate my presumption—but, none the less, I'm a stranger."

"No Dalberg is stranger to a Dalberg, and least of all in the presence of the Dalberg King," he said. Then the smile came again. "But, by the Lord, sir, I admire your pluck—to kiss the Princess Royal of Valeria before her father's very face."

"It wasn't pluck," I protested. "It was rank ignorance. I was at a loss what greeting was proper;" and I explained my perplexity.

"Of course," he said kindly, but with a shrewd twinkle in his blue eyes, "I understand. Only, I fancy it would be wiser that I make your excuses to your cousin. For, believe me, my dear Major, for one in such doubt you kissed her with amazing promptness."

This time Courtney laughed aloud and the King and I joined him.

"Then you think I may venture, sometime, to speak to her without renewed offence?" I asked presently, as we were about to retire.

"Assuredly," said the King. "When you meet her again to-night act as though you had known her always. I'll answer for it, she will not respond with a blow."

Just at the door he called to me.

"Major," he said, "which would be your preference: to be introduced to-night as one of the Blood, or to hold off a while and continue your duties as American Attaché?"

I had had this very matter in my mind a moment before. "With Your Majesty's permission I will execute my orders—at least, for the present," I said.

"I think that were the proper course under the circumstances. Meanwhile, we will provide that you have the entrée, and as