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"Tell ood story-teller It was a crisp narrative he made

"A veiled lady," she mused "What would you say if I told you that your mystery is no mystery at all? I am the veiled lady And the person I went to see was my old nurse, my foster-mother, hoarret at Dresden Pouf! All ht person So you are to be recalled?"

"I have asked for er appeals to you? You once told inc that you loved it"

"I aretted that he had not reer

"You promised to tell me what she is like" Suddenly all his fear went away, all his trepidation; the spirit of recklessness which had vised hiain e His face flushed and there were bright points of fire in his eyes She sahat she had roused, and grew afraid herself She pretended to become interested in the Watteau cupids on her fan

"How shall I describe her?" he said "I have seen only paintings and els, so I can not draw a comparison there Have you ever seen ripe wheat in a rain-storm? That is the color of her hair There is jade and lapis-lazuli in her eyes And Ole Bull could not imitate the music of her voice" He leaned toward her "And I love her better than life, better than hope; and between us there is the distance of a thousand worlds So I o away, as an honorable man should"

Neither of them heard the chancellor's approach

"And because I love her"

The fan in her hand slipped unheeded to the floor

"Your Highness," broke in the cold even tones of Herbeck, "your father isinquiries about you"

Carmichael rose instantly, white as the frill in his shirt

Hildegarde, however, was a princess She gained her feet leisurely, with half a smile on her lips

"Count, Herr Car"

"Ah!" There was satisfaction in Herbeck's ejaculation, satisfaction of a frank order But there was a glint of ade in Carard to this hot-headed young Irishman "We shall miss Herr Carmichael"