The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept up
still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had
ruled with despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger
daughter of a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried
with Royalty. The others, too, had their claims to be considered
amongst the greatest families of Europe.
The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables
ready set out.
"I think," he said, "that a little diversion--what does our
hostess say?"
"Two sets can start at least," the Duchess said. "Lucille and I
will stay out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play."
The Prince rose.
"It is agreed," he said. "Duke, will you honour me? Felix and
Dolinski are our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting
trial of strength."
There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a
little buzz of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in
a great chair, and Lady Carey came over to her side.
"You are nervous to-night, Lucille," she said.
"Yes, I am nervous," Lucille admitted. "Why not? At any moment
he may be here."
"And you care--so much?" Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
"I care so much," Lucille echoed.
Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low
divan. She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with
jewels, and looked at them for a moment thoughtfully.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136