"There, I knew what it would be!" said Wally, not without satisfaction. He observed a slightly startled look upon the other Prince's face, and added: "It's all right, she doesn't mean you. Down, Prince. Good old dog, lie down then!"

"Ah!" the Prince said, showing his gleaming teeth in a smile of perfect comprehension. "There are two of us then, and this fine fellow is a prince also! It is very amusing! But you will not banish him on my account, I beg! I am very fond of dogs, I assure you."

"He oughtn't to be in the drawing-room at all," said Ermyntrude. "He smells."

"Ah, poor fellow!" said the Prince, sitting down, and stroking the spaniel. "Look, Trudinka, what sad eyes he makes at you! But you are a lucky prince, and I shall not pity you, for you are more lucky than I am, do you see, with a fine home of your own, which no Bolsheviki will burn to the ground."

"Is that what was done to your house?" asked Ermyntrude, shocked.

He made a gesture with his hands. "Fortune of war, Trudinka. I am lucky that I have not also lost my life."

"How dreadful for you!" said Mary, feeling that some remark was expected of her. "I didn't know the Bolsheviks were as bad in Georgia."

"Did you lose everything?" said Ermyntrude.

"Everything!" replied the Prince.

So comprehensive a statement, with the picture it conjured up of unspeakable privation, smote his audience into silence. Mary felt that it was prosaic to reflect that the Prince had exempted, in the largeness of his mind, his signet ring,, and his gold cigarette-case, and perhaps some other trifles of the same nature.

Ermyntrude, easing the constraint of the moment, began to wonder, audibly, where Vicky could be. The Prince responded, with the effect of shaking off the dark thoughts his own words had evoked in his brain.