oticed that the King glanced frequently
with an air of impatience toward the door in the intervals of the
carving. He preferred to carve the dinner himself. Two servants waited
upon the company.

"His Majesty is out of sorts to day. He has given me only drumsticks,"
murmured Lady Muriel to the companion on her other side.

"Where is Mrs. Oswald Carey?" asked the monarch at last.

"Here she comes, your Majesty," said Lady Constance Percy, nodding
toward the entrance.

Mrs. Carey, in a superb black velvet costume, cut square in front, with
a Maltese cross of brilliants resting upon her bosom, swept grandly
across the dining hall. She held a small bunch of flowers in her hand.
The head waiter of the hotel, bowing almost to the ground, waved her
toward the royal table. Everybody in the room paused to gaze at the
superb beauty. The master of the household drew back her chair, but she
did not stop until she reached the King.

"Sire," she said, with a profound courtesy, "pardon my tardiness, and
accept, if you will, these roses in commemoration of your birthday."

The King looked delighted. "Yes, it is my birthday," he answered. "I was
afraid you would come too late for the champagne."

Mrs. Carey was about to retire to her seat when the King exclaimed,
"Lady Muriel, if it's all the same, I'll get you to change seats with
Mrs. Carey. Am I not your sovereign?" he inquired, noticing the glum
looks of the outraged maid of honor.

All through the rest of the meal Mrs. Carey and the King whispered
together. "I have taken a great liberty," said she at last.

"And what is that? The only liberty that I should object to your taking
would be taking yourself away."

"I have invited a party of friends to your drawing-room to-night. I had
promised a sweet girl, who seems to have taken an interest in me, to
chaperone a theatre party, and she is going to bring her guests here
instead. Does this inconvenience your Majesty?"

"Nothing that you could do would inconvenience me," and he gurgled as he
drank his champagne.

"She plays her cards well, _n'est-ce pas_," said Lady Muriel to her new
neighbor, Lord Gladstone Churchill.

King George caught her saturnine expression. He turned to the master of
the household at his elbow. "Did I not order that Lady Muriel Howard
should have only one glass of wine?"

"She insisted on more, your Majesty," groaned the major-domo.

"Am I not King?" said the monarch, and he pounded on the table