Isobel's speech was never ended. Mabane and Arthur stood within a few feet of us, the former grave, the latter white and angry. I rose slowly to my feet and held out my hand to Allan.

"I am glad to see you, Allan!" I said.

He looked first at my hand, and afterwards at me. Then, with a sigh of relief, he took it and nearly wrung it off.

"And I can't tell you how glad I am to see you both again!" he exclaimed. "We've heard strange stories--or rather Arthur has--from his friend Lady Delahaye, and at last we decided to come over and find out all about it for ourselves. Don't take any notice of Arthur," he added under his breath, "he's not quite himself."

Arthur was standing with his back to me, talking to Isobel. Certainly her welcome was flattering enough. I realized with a sudden gravity that I had not heard her laugh like this since she had been in England.

Arthur continued talking in a low, earnest tone.

"How did you find us?" I asked Allan.

"We called at the Rue de St. Antoine," he answered. "The housekeeper said that she had heard you talk about dining at one of these places.

Arnold?"

"Well?"

"Why are you and Isobel staying on in Paris?"

"First of all," I answered promptly, "we had to stay for the funeral, and now there are some legal formalities which cannot be finished until to-morrow. I am Monsieur Feurgeres' executor, Allan, and he has left me twenty thousand pounds. Isobel has the rest."

"I am delighted, old chap," Mabane declared heartily. "In fact, I'll drink your health."

I called a waiter and ordered liqueurs. Arthur took his with an ill grace, and he still avoided any direct speech with me. Isobel was evidently uneasy, and looked at me once or twice as though anxious that I should break up their _tete-a-tete_. But when I had paid the bill and we rose to go, Allan pa.s.sed his arm through mine, and I was forced to let the two go on.

"Let the boy have his chance," Allan said, pausing a little as we turned into the Boulevard. "He's in such a state that he won't listen to reason only from her."

"But," I protested, "it is absurd for him to speak to her. Does he know who she is? The Princess Isobel of Waldenburg! Their little kingdom is small enough, but they play at royalty there."

Allan nodded.

"He knows. But he's a good-looking boy, and the girls have spoilt him a little. He has an idea that she cares for him."

"Impossible!" I declared, sharply.

"No! Not impossible!" Allan answered, shaking his head. "They have been together a great deal, you must remember, and Arthur can be a very delightful companion when he chooses. No, it isn't impossible, Arnold."

I shook my head.

"Isobel's future is already arranged," I said. "In three days' time I am taking her to her grandfather. If he receives her, as I believe that he will receive her, she will pa.s.s out of our lives as easily as she came into them. She will marry a grand duke, perhaps even a petty king. She will be plunged into all manner of excitements and gaiety. Her years with us will never be mentioned at Court. She herself will soon learn to look back on them as a quaint episode."

"You do not believe it, Arnold?" Mabane declared scornfully.

"Heaven only knows what I believe," I answered, with a little burst of bitterness. "Look at that!"

We had reached the Rue de St. Antoine. Isobel stood in the doorway at the apartments waiting for us. But Arthur had already disappeared.

CHAPTER VII

I examined the tickets carefully and placed them in my pocket-book. Then I paused to light a cigarette on my way out of the office, and almost immediately felt a hand upon my arm. I looked at first at the hand. It was feminine and delicately gloved. Then I looked upwards into the blue eyes of Lady Delahaye.

"Abominable!" she murmured. "You are not glad to see me!"

I raised my hat.

"The Boulevard des Italiennes," I said, "has never seemed to me to be a place peculiarly suitable for the display of emotion."

"Come and try the Rue Strelitz," she answered, smiling.

I glanced down at her. She was gowned even more perfectly than usual--Parisienne to the finger-tips. She had too all the delightful confidence of a woman who knows that she is looking her best.

I smiled back at her. It was impossible to take her seriously.

"Your invitation," I said, "sounds most attractive. But I am curious to know what would happen to me in the Rue Strelitz. Should I be offered poison in a jewelled cup, or disposed of in a cruder fashion? Let me make my will first, and I will come. I am really curious!"

"Arnold," she said, looking up at me with very bright eyes, "you are brutal."

"Not quite that, I hope," I protested.

"Let me tell you something," she continued.

We were in rather a conspicuous position. Lady Delahaye seemed suddenly to realize it.

"May I beg for your escort a little way?" she said. "I am not comfortable upon the Boulevard alone."

"You could scarcely fail," I remarked, throwing away my cigarette, "to be an object of attention from the Frenchman, who is above all things a judge of your s.e.x. I will accompany you a little way with pleasure.

Shall we take a fiacre?"

"I would rather walk," she answered. "Do you mind coming this way? I will not take you far."

"I have two whole unoccupied hours," I a.s.sured her, "which are very much at your service."

"Where, then," she asked, "is Isobel?"

"Shopping with Tobain," I answered.

"Are you not afraid," she asked with a smile, "to send her out alone with Tobain?"

"Not in the least," I answered. "Monsieur Feurgeres' only friend in Paris was the chief commissioner of police, and he has been good enough to take great interest in us. Isobel is well watched."

"I wonder," she said, after a moment's pause, "whether you have still any faith in me!"

"My dear lady!"

"I wish I could make you believe me. The--her Highness--she prefers us here to call her Madame--has relinquished altogether her designs against you. She desires an alliance."