eternally refusing to be called a foreigner, even on the shores of
Madagascar. We are willing to be most anything, but I'll be hanged
if we'll be foreigners."

A week later Quentin was in Paris. Savage was to join him in
Brussels about the middle of August, and Lord and Lady Saxondale
promised faithfully to come to that city at a moment's notice. He
went blithely away with the firm conviction in his heart that it was
not to be a fool's errand. But he was reckoning without the woman in
the case.

"If you do marry her, Quentin, I've got just the place for you to
live in, for a while at least. I bought an old castle in Luxemburg a
couple of years ago, just because the man who owned it was a friend
and needed a few thousand pounds. Frances calls it Castle
Craneycrow. It's a romantic place, and would be a great deal better
than a cottage for love. You may have it whenever the time comes.
Nobody lives there now but the caretaker and a lot of deuced
traditions. We can discharge the caretaker and you can make fresh
traditions. Think it over, my boy, while you are dispatching the
prince, the mamma and the fair victim's ambition to become a real
live princess."

"Don't be sarcastic, Bob," exclaimed Quentin. "I'll not need your
castle. We're going to live in the clouds."

"Beware of the prince," said Lady Frances. "He is pretty high
himself, you know."

"Let the prince beware," laughed back the departing guest. "We can't