“Cannot your property be reclaimed?” she asked.  “How much do you owe?”

“Ten thousand dollars would clear me and give me another start.  But, Majesty, in this country that’s a good deal of money, and I haven’t been able to raise it.  Stillwell’s in worse shape than I am.”

Madeline went over to Alfred and put her hands on his shoulders.

“We must not be in debt.”

He stared at her as if her words had recalled something long forgotten.  Then he smiled.

“How imperious you are!  I’d fcrgotten just who my beautiful sister really is.  Majesty, you’re not going to ask me to take money from you?”

“I am.”

“Well, I’ll not do it.  I never did, even when I was in college, and then there wasn’t much beyond me.”

“Listen, Alfred,” she went on, earnestly, “this is entirely different.  I had only an allowance then.  You had no way to know that since I last wrote you I had come into my inheritance from Aunt Grace.  It was—­well, that doesn’t matter.  Only, I haven’t been able to spend half the income.  It’s mine.  It’s not father’s money.  You will make me very happy if you’ll consent.  Alfred, I’m so—­so amazed at the change in you.  I’m so happy.  You must never take a backward step from now on.  What is ten thousand dollars to me?  Sometimes I spend that in a month.  I throw money away.  If you let me help you it will be doing me good as well as you.  Please, Alfred.”

He kissed her, evidently surprised at her earnestness.  And indeed Madeline was surprised herself.  Once started, her speech had flowed.

“You always were the best of fellows, Majesty.  And if you really care—­if you really want to help me I’ll be only too glad to accept.  It will be fine.  Florence will go wild.  And that Greaser won’t harass me any more.  Majesty, pretty soon some titled fellow will be spending your money; I may as well take a little before he gets it all,” he finished, jokingly.

“What do you know about me?” she asked, lightly.

“More than you think.  Even if we are lost out here in the woolly West we get news.  Everybody knows about Anglesbury.  And that Dago duke who chased you all over Europe, that Lord Castleton has the running now and seems about to win.  How about it, Majesty?”

Madeline detected a hint that suggested scorn in his gay speech.  And deep in his searching glance she saw a flame.  She became thoughtful.  She had forgotten Castleton, New York, society.

“Alfred,” she began, seriously, “I don’t believe any titled gentleman will ever spend my money, as you elegantly express it.”

“I don’t care for that.  It’s you!” he cried, passionately, and he grasped her with a violence that startled her.  He was white; his eyes were now like fire.  “You are so splendid—­so wonderful.  People called you the American Beauty, but you’re more than that.  You’re the American Girl!  Majesty, marry no man unless you love him, and love an American.  Stay away from Europe long enough to learn to know the men—­the real men of your own country.”