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 far beyond his reach—he, a mere Irish adventurer!—she was also "madame"—married!

"Monsieur!" the voice of the woman came to his ears through the daze of his reverie; and it was a-thrill with dismay. "Monsieur, for the love of Heaven do not look so wrathful! You—why, you are ruining our play; you must, must pay attention to me—"

With an effort he contrived to gain some control of his emotions; he schooled himself to bend an attentive ear towards the woman, and to smile lightly the while they chatted of inconsequential matters, slowly threading a way down the length of the salon, through a whirling maze of dancing couples: all of which floated vaguely before O'Rourke's eyes, a blur of women's gleaming, rounded shoulders, of coruscant jewels and fugitive flashes of color, all spotted with the severe black-and-white costumes of men. They ran the gantlet of a thousand pairs of curious eyes, whose searching and impertinent scrutiny O'Rourke keenly felt, and as keenly longed to return.

They were making, he found, for the far end of the room—towards a wall of glass through which peeped green, growing plants. And there, in the conservatory, the princess presently left the adventurer.

"You will await me here," she instructed him, "that I may know where to find you when the time comes. In ten minutes, then, Colonel O'Rourke!"

She smiled graciously. He was gripping himself strongly, in order that he might answer her with some semblance of coherency; and he blushed in his embarrassment, finding himself slow to recover—very boyish looking, young and handsome.

Madame la Princesse turned away, smiling inscrutably,