a tragedy of such a farce.' He flicked the order on the table. `You may signify my readiness,' he added grandly.

`Ah,' she said, `you are more angry than you own.'

`I, madam? angry?' he cried. `You rave! I have no cause for anger. In every way I have been taught my weakness, my instability, and my unfitness for the world. I am a plexus of weaknesses, an impotent Prince, a doubtful gentleman; and you yourself, indulgent as you are, have twice reproved my levity. And shall I be angry? I may feel the unkindness, but I have sufficient honesty of mind to see the reasons of this coup d'état.'

`From whom have you got this?' she cried in wonder. `You think you have not behaved well? My Prince, were you not young and handsome, I should detest you for your virtues. You push them to the verge of commonplace. And this ingratitude -- `

`Understand me, Madame von Rosen,' returned the Prince, flushing a little darker, `there can be here no talk of gratitude, none of pride. You are here, by what circumstance I know not, but doubtless led by your kindness, mixed up in what regards my family alone. You have no knowledge what my wife, your sovereign, may have suffered; it is not for you -- no, nor for me -- to judge. I own myself in fault; and were it otherwise, a man were a very empty boaster who should talk of love and start before a small humiliation. It is in all the copybooks that one should die to please his lady-love; and shall a man not go to prison?'

`Love? And what has love to do with being sent to gaol?' exclaimed the Countess, appealing to the walls and roof. `Heaven knows I think as much of love as any one; my life would prove it; but I admit no love, at least for a man, that is not equally returned. The rest is moonshine.'

`I think of love more absolutely, madam, though I am certain no more tenderly, than a lady to whom I am indebted for such kindnesses,' returned the Prince. `But this is unavailing. We are not here to hold a court of troubadours.'

`Still,' she replied, `there is one thing you forget. If she conspires with Gondremark against your liberty, she may conspire with him against your honour also.'

`My honour?' he repeated. `For a woman, you surprise me. If I have failed to gain her love or play my part of husband, what right is left me? or what honour can remain in such a scene of defeat? No honour that I recognise. I am become a stranger. If my wife no longer loves me, I will go to prison, since she wills it; if she love another, where should I be more in place? or whose fault is it but mine? You speak, Madame von Rosen, like too many women, with a man's tongue. Had I myself fallen into temptation (as, Heaven knows, I might) I should have trembled, but still hoped and asked for her forgiveness; and yet mine had been a treason in the teeth of love. But let me tell you, madam,' he pursued, with rising irritation, `where a husband by futility, facility, and ill-timed humours has outwearied his wife's patience, I will suffer neither man nor woman to misjudge her. She is free; the man has been found wanting.'

`Because she loves you not?' the Countess cried. `You know she is incapable of such a feeling.'

`Rather, it was I who was born incapable of inspiring it,' said Otto.

Madame von Rosen broke into sudden laughter. `Fool,' she cried, `I am in love with you myself!'

`Ah, madam, you are most compassionate,' the Prince retorted, smiling. `But this is waste debate. I know my purpose. Perhaps, to equal you in frankness, I know and embrace my advantage. I am not without the spirit of adventure. I am in a false position -- so recognised by public acclamation: do you grudge me, then, my issue?'