h other, this
demonstrative cordiality supplied it. It was so hollow it fairly
resounded with derision.

"I'll ride over to Headquarters with you," he said.

"I'm walking," I answered.

"Good, I'll walk, too," he replied.

So, we set out--the orderly following with the Duke's horse.

"When did you come in?" I asked--knowing perfectly well the very hour
of his arrival.

"Last night, on the Express from the North," he answered--knowing that
I already knew it.

"Had a good time, of course?" I remarked.

"Delightful--we wished for you."

"It's astonishing how kind you all are to the stranger," I said.

He shot a quick glance at me.

"We don't regard you as a stranger, my dear cousin," he protested.

"I believe you," said I. "Judged by the way His Majesty and the
Princess, and you have treated me, the heir of Hugo might never have
lived beyond the Kingdom."

This brought another look.

"The Dalbergs don't do things by halves," he answered.

"So I have noticed, cousin. I only trust I can live up to it."

He laughed. "You promise very well, Armand, very well, indeed."

"I am glad," I answered.

When we reached Headquarters, I suggested that he come up to my office
and smoke a cigar. I thought he would decline. But, there, I erred.

"Thanks," said he, "I'll join you as soon as I've registered," and he
turned down the corridor toward the Adjutant General's office.

On my desk was a wire from the Princess. She and the King would reach
Dornlitz the next morning and I was expected to lunch at the Palace. I
dispatched an answer that would meet the Royal train en route, and
thought of Lotzen with indifference--almost.

When he came, I was going through a batch of papers which had just been
brought in for my signature.

"Don't let me disturb you," he said heartily. "Finish the miserable
red tape."

I nodded.

He chose a cigar and, having lighted it, with the careful attention he
seemed to give to the smallest matters, he sauntered to the window that
overlooked the Avenue.

Presently, he glanced around at me.

I went on with my work.

Then he glanced again.

I signed the last of the papers, pushed them aside and arose.

"Mrs. Spencer is about to pass," he said.

"I trust so," said I. "I'm sure I've no desire for her to stop."

Then, suddenly, he frowned--and made a short bow.

"She had the impudence to speak to me," he said.

I smiled and made no comment. For the life of me, I coul