There were three women and a man in the approaching party, and it
chanced I knew them all. Courtney had a red rose fastened
conspicuously on his breast, and Lady Helen wore a great bunch of them
in her hair--another was gowned like her and, so, must be the Marquise
de Vierle herself--the fourth was Mademoiselle d'Essoldé.
"If you wish," said I, barring the path and sweeping the ground with my
feather, "I'll hunt another rose. I've been searching for you so long
that the one I began with has gone to pieces."
"Of course, Your Highness would never think of looking in the Ball
Room," said Lady Helen.
Mademoiselle d'Essoldé started and, then, drew a bit back.
"Never, indeed, until I had searched the Garden," I retorted. Then I
bowed to Mademoiselle d'Essoldé as the Marquise presented her. I could
see she was very much embarrassed, so I tried to reassure her by being
extremely cordial.
The Marquise wanted to show Courtney the bridge and the lake, and, when
we passed the place where Moore and I had met the Queens--as I had
styled them--Mademoiselle d'Essoldé found her opportunity and whispered:
"Will Your Royal Highness ever forgive me?"
"On one condition," I said.
"It's granted--name it."
"That you be nice to him who sits beside you at supper, to-night."
She looked at me a moment--masks are very annoying when one wants to
see the face.
"That will be an easy penance," she said--and I understood she had been
told who that man was to be.