Paul drew himself up.  “Why did you not tell me before?  Her Highness is not to be kept waiting.  Present my respectful compliments to Her Highness, and ask her and Colonel and Miss Winwood to have the kindness to come upstairs.”

“We had better go,” cried Jane in sudden fear.

“No,” said lie.  “I want you all to stay.”

CHAPTER XVIII

In the tense silence of the few moments of waiting Paul passed from the boy to whom the earth had been a fairyland to the man grappling with great realities.  In those few moments he lived through his past life and faced an adumbration of the future.

The door was thrown open and the Princess appeared, smiling, happy, a black ostrich feather in her hat and a sable stole hanging loose from her shoulders; a great and radiant lady.  Behind her came the Colonel and Ursula Winwood.  Paul bent over the Princess’s, outstretched hand.

“A thousand pardons for keeping you waiting.  I did not know you had come.  I was engaged with my friends.  May I have the honour of presenting them?  Princess, this is Mr. Silas Finn, the managing director of Fish Palaces Limited.  These are two very dear friends, Miss Seddon—­Mr. Simmons.  Miss Winwood—­Colonel Winwood, may I?”

He waved an introductory hand.  The Princess:  bowed; then, struck by their unsmiling faces and by Paul’s strange manner, turned to him quickly.

“’Qu’est ce qu’il y a?”

“Je vais vous le dire.”

He pushed a chair.  She sat down.  Ursula Winwood sat in Paul’s writing chair.  The others remained standing.

“Mr. Finn called to inform me that he has been adopted as the Liberal candidate for Hickney Heath."’ “My felicitations,” said the Princess.

Silas bowed to her gravely and addressed Colonel Winwood.

“We have been, sir—­Mr. Savelli and I—­for some time on terms of personal friendship in the constituency.”

“I see, I see,” replied the Colonel, though he was somewhat puzzled.  “Very polite and friendly, I’m sure.”

“Mr. Finn also urges me to withdraw my candidature,” said Paul.

The Princess gave a little incredulous laugh.  Ursula Winwood rose and, with a quick protective step, drew nearer Paul.  Colonel Winwood frowned.

“Withdraw?  In Heaven’s name why?”

Silas Finn tugged at his black-and-white-streaked beard and looked at his son.

“Need we go into it again?  There are religious reasons, which perhaps, Madam”—­Silas addressed the Princess—­“you might misunderstand.  Mr. Savelli possibly thinks I am a fanatic.  I can’t help it.  I have warned him.  That is enough.  Good-bye, Mr. Savelli.”

He held out his hand; but Paul did not take it.  “You forget, Mr. Finn, that I asked you to stay.”  He clutched the sides of his jacket till his knuckles grew white, and he set his teeth.  “Mr. Finn has another reason for wishing me not to oppose him—­”