"Ah, my friend, no wonder you ask!" Karschoff declared with enthusiasm.
"That is a woman whom you must know."

"Tell me her name," Nigel persisted with growing impatience.

"Her name," Karschoff replied, "is Naida Karetsky. She is the daughter
of the man who will probably be the next President of the Russian
Republic. You see, I can speak those words without a tremor. Her father
at present represents the shipping interests of Russia and England. He
is one of the authorised consuls."

"Is he of the party?"

Karschoff scrutinised the approaching figures through his eyeglass and
nodded.

"Her father is the dark, broad-shouldered man with the square beard," he
indicated. "Immelan, as you can see, is the third. They are coming this
way. We will speak of them afterwards."

Naida, with her father and Oscar Immelan, left some acquaintances with
whom they had been talking and, preceded by a _maître d'hôtel_, moved in
the direction of the two men. The girl recognised the Prince with a
charming little bow and was on the point of passing on when she
appeared to notice his companion. For a moment she hesitated. The
Prince, anticipating her desire to speak, rose at once to his feet.

"Mademoiselle," he said, bending over her hand, "welcome back to
England! You bring with you the first sunshine we have seen for many