Forrest nodded understandingly.

“But, Ena,” he said, “if he really does shell out, won’t you be sailing rather close to the wind?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“I am not afraid,” she said.  “I know De Brensault and his sort.  If he feels that he has been duped, he will keep it to himself.  He is too vain a man to allow the world to know it.  Poor Jeanne!  I am afraid, I am very much afraid that he will take it out of her.”

“I do not quite see,” Forrest said reflectively, “how you are going to make Jeanne marry any one, especially in this country.”

“Jeanne is French, not English,” the Princess remarked, “and she is not of age.  A mother has considerable authority legally, as I dare say you are aware.  We may not be able to manage it in England, but I think I can guarantee that if De Brensault doesn’t disappoint us, the wedding will take place.”

Forrest helped himself to a cigarette from an open box by his side.

“I think,” he said, “that if it comes off we ought to go to the States for a year or so.  They don’t know us so well there, and those people are the easiest duped of any in the world.”

The Princess nodded.

“I have thought of that,” she remarked.  “There are only one or two little things against it.  However, we will see.  You had better go now.  I have some callers coming and must make myself respectable.”

She gave him her hands and he raised them to his lips.  Her eyes followed him as he turned away and left the room.  For a few moments she was thoughtful.  Then she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” she said, “all things must come to an end, I suppose.”

She rang the bell and sent for Jeanne.  It was ten minutes, however, before she appeared.

“What have you been doing?” the Princess asked with a frown.

“Finishing some letters,” Jeanne answered calmly.  “Did you want me particularly?”

“To whom were you writing?” the Princess demanded.

“To Monsieur Laplanche for one person,” Jeanne answered calmly.

The Princess raised her eyebrows.

“And what had you,” she asked, “to say to Monsieur Laplanche?”

“I have written to ask him a few particulars concerning my fortune,” Jeanne answered.

“Such as?” the Princess inquired steadily.

“I want to know,” Jeanne said, “at what age it becomes my own, and how much it amounts to.  It seems to me that I have a right to know these things, and as you will not tell me, I have written to Monsieur Laplanche.”

The Princess held out her hand.

“Give me the letter,” she said.

Jeanne made no motion to obey.

“Do you object to my writing?” she asked.

“I object,” the Princess said, “to your writing anybody on any subject without my permission, and so far as regards the information you have asked for from Monsieur Laplanche, I will tell you all that you want to know.”