“So you see,” he continued, after a moment’s pause, “that you have done your work.  You have done it very effectually.  You have created a strong sentiment in my mind in favour of this country, a sentiment which I did not previously possess.  There is no other way in which you could have influenced the decision soon to be arrived at.  In return for what I have told you, Lady Maggie, I ask for no promise, but I beg you to forget the role you played in Germany; not to attempt—­you will not be offended?—­to influence events so far as I am concerned by any attempt at spying upon my actions, or by treating me any other way than with your whole confidence.  I do not ask for any promise.  I have said something to you which has been on my mind.  Now I shall ask you a favour,” he declared, rising to his feet.  “You will walk with me through the flower gardens yonder.  If there is one thing I miss in this country so much that the want of it makes me sometimes a little homesick,” he went on, as they moved away together, “it is the perfume of the flowers in the morning and at night from the gardens of my summer palace.  Next time you honour me with an hour or so of your time, I shall ask you to let me bring some pictures of my favourite home in China.”

Maggie walked dutifully by his side, answering his frequent questions about flowers and shrubs, listening while he told her about his white peacocks and the tame birds which were his own pets.  Suddenly she broke into a fit of laughter.  She looked up into his grave face, her eyes imploring him for sympathy.

“I feel so like a precocious child,” she exclaimed, “who has been put in her place!  No one has ever turned me inside out so skilfully, has made me feel such an ignorant little donkey.  Do you know, I half like you for it, Prince Shan, and half detest you.”

He seemed suddenly to become younger, to meet her upon her own ground.

“Please do not be angry,” he begged.  “Please do not think that I look upon you at all as a little child.  You have brought something into my life for which I have searched and hoped, and I am deeply grateful to you.  Shall I—­go on?”

She caught at his wrist.

“Please not,” she begged breathlessly.  “Be content with this moment.”

They had paused by the side of an arbour.  She suddenly felt the pressure of his fingers upon her hand.

“I shall be content,” he said, in a low tone, the passion of which seemed to throw her senses into complete turmoil, “only when I have what my heart desires.  But I will wait.”

They walked almost into the midst of a little crowd of acquaintances.  Maggie was herself again immediately.  She chattered away with Chalmers, and led him off to see a wonderful yellow rose.  He watched her curiously.  When they found themselves isolated at the end of the garden path, he ignored for a moment their mission.

“Any luck, Lady Maggie?” he asked.