Arms and the Woman

"It is a great honor," she said, after some meditation, "and it is very

kind of you. But I care as little for the title as I do for this

rose." And she cast away one of Pembroke's roses. It boded ill for my

cousin's cause.

Presently we saw the giver of the rose loom up in the doorway. He was

smiling as usual.

"It is supper, Jack," he said; "I'm afraid you'll have to go."

"Does he know?" whispered Phyllis as we rose.

"Yes."

She frowned. And as they went away I mused upon the uncertainty of

placing valuable things in woman's hands.

The next person I saw was the Chancellor.

"Well?" I interrogated.

"There can be no doubt," he said, "but--" with an expressive shrug.

"Life would run smoother if it had fewer 'buts' and 'its' and

'perhapses.' What you would say," said I, "is that there are no

proofs. Certainly they must be somewhere."

"But to find them!" cried he.

"I shall make the effort; the pursuit is interesting."

The expression in his eyes told me that he had formed an opinion in

regard to my part. "Ah, these journalists!" as he passed on.

Everything seemed so near and yet so far. Proofs? Where could they be

found if Wentworth had them not? If only there had been a trinket, a

kerchief, even, with the Hohenphalian crest upon it! I shook my fists

in despair. Gretchen was so far away, so far!

I went in search of her. She was still surrounded by men. The women

were not as friendly toward her as they might have been. The Prince

was standing near. Seeing me approach, his teeth gleamed for an

instant.

"Ah," said Gretchen, "here is Herr Winthrop, who is to take me in to

supper."

It was cleverly done, I thought. Even the Prince was of the same mind.

He appreciated all these phases. As we left them and passed in toward

the supper room, I whispered: "I love you!"