that he would pawn the entire principality for an answer that would make him the happiest man on earth.  Now, the troubled Princess abhorred Gabriel.  Of the two, Lorenz was much to be preferred.  Gabriel flew into a rage upon the receipt of this rebuff, and openly avowed his intention to make her suffer.  His infatuation became a mania, and, up to the very day on which the Countess told the story, he persisted in his appeals to the Princess.  In person he had gone to her to plead his suit, on his knees, grovelling at her feet.  He went so far as to exclaim madly in the presence of the alarmed but relentless object of his love that he would win her or turn the whole earth into everything unpleasant.

So it was that the Princess of Graustark, erstwhile Miss Guggenslocker, was being dragged through the most unhappy affairs that ever beset a sovereign.  Within a month she was to sign away two-thirds of her domain, transforming multitudes of her beloved and loving people into subjects of the hated Axphain, or to sell herself, body and soul, to a loathsome bidder in the guise of a suitor.  And, with all this confronting her, she had come to the realization of a truth so sad and distracting; that it was breaking her tortured heart.  She was in love—­but with no royal prince!  Of this, however, the Countess knew nothing, so Lorry had one great secret to cherish alone.

“Has she chosen the course she will pursue?” asked Lorry, as the Countess concluded her story.  Isis face was turned away.

“She cannot decide.  We have wept together over this dreadful, this horrible thing.  You do not know what it means to all of us, Mr. Lorry.  We love her, and there is not one in our land who would sacrifice her to save this territory.  As for Gabriel, Graustark would kill her before she should go to him.  Still she cannot let herself sacrifice those northern subjects when by a single act she can save them.  You see, the Princess has not forgotten that her father brought this war upon the people, and she feels it her duty to pay the penalty of his error, whatever the cost.”

“Is there no other to whom she can turnno other course?” asked Lorry.

“There is none who would assist us, bankrupt as we are.  There is a question I want to ask, Mr. Lorry.  Please look at me—­do not stare at the fountain all the time.  Why have you come to Edelweiss?” She asked the question so boldly that his startled embarrassment was an unspoken confession.  He calmed himself and hesitated long before answering, weighing his reply.  She sat close beside him, her clear gray eyes reading him like a book.

“I came to see a Miss Guggenslocker,” he answered at last.

“For what purpose?  There must have been an urgent cause to bring you so far.  You are not an American banker?”

“I had intended to ask her to be my wife,” he said, knowing that secrecy was useless and seeing a faint hope.