"Denzil has gone to bed," he announced. "He begged me to excuse
him to you, Princess. I think the boy is feverish. Egypt doesn't
agree with him."

"I am sorry he is ill," said the Princess with a charming air of
sympathy.

"Oh, he isn't exactly ill," returned the Doctor, looking sharply
at her beautiful face as he spoke. "He is simply unnerved and
restless. I am a little anxious about him. I think he ought to go
back to England--or Scotland."

"I think so, too," agreed Gervase. "And Mademoiselle Helen with
him."

"Mademoiselle Helen you consider very beautiful?" murmured the
Princess, unfurling her fan and waving it indolently to and fro.

"No, not beautiful," answered the Doctor quickly. "But very
pretty, sweet and lovable--and good."

"Ah then, of course some one will break her heart!" said the
Princess calmly. "That is what always happens to good women."

And she smiled as she saw Gervase flush, half with anger, half
with shame. The little Doctor rubbed his nose crossly.

"Not always, Princess," he said. "Sometimes it does; in fact
pretty often. It is an unfortunate truth that virtue is seldom
rewarded in this world. Virtue in a woman nowadays---"