Seldom has young candidate had so glad a welcome.

And behind him stood his Sophie, an inspiring goddess.
It so happened that for a date a few days hence had been fixed the Annual General Meeting of the Forlorn Widows' Fund, when Report and Balance Sheet were presented to the society.

The control of this organization Paul had not allowed to pass into the alien hands of Townsend, the Winwoods' new secretary.

Had not his Princess, for the most delicious reasons in the world, been made President?
He scorned Ursula Winwood's suggestion that for this year he would allow Townsend to manage affairs.

"What!" cried he, "leave my Princess in the lurch on her first appearance?
Never!" By telephone he arranged an hour for the next day, when they could all consult together over this important matter.
"But, my dear boy," said Miss Winwood, "your time is not your own.
Suppose you're detained at Hickney Heath ?" "The Conqueror," he cried, with a gay laugh, "belongs to the Detainers--not the Detained." She looked at him out of her clear eyes, and shook an indulgent head.
"I know," said he, meeting her glance shrewdly.