The gates were open, and coming toward the two wanderers as they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, on each side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted.

The Englishman, however, had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve.
"Look!" Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap.
In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteen or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived.

The Englishman saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held them.

He caught his breath.
"Who is that ?" he asked.
"That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia." Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the opposite seat..