I shall tell Hillars’s story as he told it.  He said: 

Last August I went to B——.  My mission was important and took me to the British Legation, where I am well known.  I was most cordially invited to attend a ball to be given the next evening.  The notables of the court were there.  For a few moments the King let his sun shine on the assemblage.  It was a brilliant spectacle.  At midnight I saw for the first time a remarkably beautiful woman.  I was looking well myself that night.  All women like to see broad shoulders in a man.  It suggests strength—­something they have not.  Several times this young woman’s eyes met mine.  Somehow, mine were always first to fall.  There was a magnetism in hers mine could not withstand.  Later, an attache came to me and said that he wished to present me to her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde of—­let us call it Hohenphalia.  He whispered that she had commanded the introduction.  I expected to see some red-faced dowager who wanted to ask me about my country and bore me with her guttural accents.  To my intense pleasure, I found myself at the side of the beauty whom I had been admiring.  There was a humorous light in her eyes as she put some questions to me.

“Do you speak German?” she asked in that language.

“Poorly, your Highness,” I answered.

“Perhaps, then, you speak French?”

“As I do my mother tongue,” said I.

“I am interested in Americans,” she said.

“Collectively or individually?” I tried to say this with perfect innocence, but the smile on her lips told me that I had failed.

“Yes, I was sure that you would interest me.”

She tapped the palm of her hand with the fan she held.  “Shall I tell you why I desired to meet you?”

I nodded.

“I have heard it said that the American bows down before a title; and I am a woman, and curious.”

Said I, laughing:  “Your Highness has been misinformed.  We never bow down to a title; it is to the wearers that we bow.”

This time her eyes fell.

“This sort of conversation is altogether new to me,” she said, opening the fan.

“I hope that I have not offended your Highness,” I said.

“Indeed, no.  But it seems so strange to have any one talk to me with such frankness and deliberation.  Have you no fear?”

“There is seldom fear where there is admiration.  If you had used the word awe, now——­”

Soft laughter rippled over the fan.  She had the most wonderful eyes.

“Are all Americans brave like yourself?” she next asked.

“Brave?  What do you call brave?”

“Your utter lack of fear in my presence, in the first place:  I am called dangerous.  And then, your exploits in the Balkistan, in the second place.  Are you not the M. Hillars whose bravery not so long ago was an interesting topic in the newspapers?  I know you.”