She started and caught her breath.  “Mr. Chase?  He—­he hasn’t said anything about it,” she responded lamely.  “He’s—­he’s not that sort,”

“Ah,” reflected Deppingham, “he is a gentleman?”

Genevra flushed.  “Yes, I’m sure he is.”

“I say, Genevra,” he said, looking straight into her rebellious eyes, “you’re in love with Chase.  Why don’t you marry him?”

“You—­you are really delirious, Deppy,” she cried.  “The fever has——­”

“He’s good enough for any one—­even you,” went on his lordship coolly.

“He may have a wife,” said she, collecting her wits with rare swiftness.  “Who knows?  Don’t be silly, Deppy.”

“Rubbish!  Haven’t you stuffed Aggie and me full of the things you found out concerning him before he left Thorberg—­and afterward?  The letters from the Ambassador’s wife and the glowing things your St. Petersburg friends have to say of him, eh?  He comes to us well recommended by no other than the Princess Genevra, a most discriminating person.  Besides, he’d give his head to marry you—­having already lost it.”

“You are very amusing, Deppy, when you try to be clever.  Is there a clause in that silly old will compelling me to marry any one?”

“Of course not, my dear Princess; but I fancy you’ve got a will of your own.  Where there’s a will, there’s a way.  You’d marry him to-morrow if—­if——­”

“If I were not amply prepared to contest my own will?” she supplied airily.

“No.  If your will was not wrapped in convention three centuries old.  You won’t marry Chase because you are a princess.  That’s the long and the short of it.  It isn’t your fault, either.  It’s born in you.  I daresay it would be a mistake, after a fashion, too.  You’d be obliged to give up being a princess, and settle down as a wife.  Chase wouldn’t let you forget that you were a wife.  It would be hanging over you all the time.  Besides, he’d be a husband.  That’s something to beware of, too.”

“Deppy, you are ranting frightfully,” she said consolingly.  “You should go to sleep.”

“I’m awfully sorry for you, Genevra.”

“Sorry for me?  Dear me!”

“You’re tremendously gone on him.”

“Nonsense!  Why, I couldn’t marry Mr. Chase,” she exclaimed, irritable at last.  “Don’t put such things into my head—­I mean, don’t get such things into that ridiculous old head of yours.  Are you forgetting that I am to become Karl’s wife in June?  You are babbling, Deppy——­”

“Well, let’s say no more about it,” he said, lying back resignedly.  “It’s too bad, that’s all.  Chase is a man.  Karl isn’t.  You loathe him.  I don’t wonder that you turn pale and look frightened.  Take my advice!  Take Chase!”

“Don’t!” she cried, a break in her voice.  She arose and went swiftly toward the window.  Then she stopped and turned upon him, her lips parted as if to give utterance to the thing that was stirring her heart so violently.  The words would not come.  She smiled plaintively and said instead:  “Good-night!  Get a good sleep.”