“But the position that depends upon a foreign title cannot be of much value,” said the pupil of Karl Steinmetz.

Etta shook her pretty head reflectively.

“Of course,” she answered, “money makes a position of its own, and every-body knows that you are a prince; but it would be nicer, with the servants and every-body, to be a princess.”

“I am afraid I cannot do it,” said Paul.

“Then there is some reason for it,” answered his wife, looking at him sharply.

“Yes, there is.”

“Ah!”

“The reason is the responsibility that attaches to the very title you wish to wear.”

The lady smiled, a little scornfully perhaps.

“Oh!  Your grubby old peasants, I suppose,” she said.

“Yes.  You remember, Etta, what I told you before we were married—­about the people, I mean?”

“Oh, yes!” answered Etta, glancing at the clock and hiding a little yawn behind her fan.

“I did not tell you all,” went on Paul, “partly because it was inexpedient, partly because I feared it might bore you.  I only told you that I was vaguely interested in the peasants, and thought it would be a good thing if they could be gradually educated into a greater self-respect, a greater regard for cleanliness and that sort of thing.”

“Yes, dear, I remember,” answered Etta, listlessly contemplating her gloved hands.

“Well, I have not contented myself with thinking this during the last two or three years.  I have tried to put it into practice.  Steinmetz and I have lived at Osterno six months of the year on purpose to organize matters on the estate.  I was deeply implicated in the—­Charity League—­”

Etta dropped her fan with a clatter into the fender.

“Oh!  I hope it is not broken,” she gasped, with a singular breathlessness.

“I do not think so,” replied Paul, picking up the fan and returning it to her.  “Why, you look quite white!  What does it matter if it is broken?  You have others.”

“Yes, but—­” Etta paused, opening the fan and examining the sticks so closely that her face was hidden by the feathers.  “Yes, but I like this one.  What is the Charity League, dear?”

“It was a large organization gotten up by the hereditary nobles of Russia to educate the people and better their circumstances by discriminate charity.  Of course it had to be kept secret, as the bureaucracy is against any attempt to civilize the people—­against education or the dissemination of news.  The thing was organized.  We were just getting to work when some one stole the papers of the League from the house of Count Stepan Lanovitch and sold them to the Government.  The whole thing was broken up; Lanovitch and others were exiled, I bolted home, and Steinmetz faced the storm alone in Osterno.  He was too clever for them, and nothing was brought home to us.  But you will understand that it is necessary for us to avoid any notoriety, to live as quietly and privately as possible.”