Groves,"
he added to the servant who answered the door, "the Prince of Saxe
Leinitzer's carriage is urgently required."
The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side.
She was laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale
with fury.
"Pompous old ass," he muttered savagely. "He may have a worse
scandal in his house now than he dreams of."
She wiped her eyes.
"Have I not always told you," she said, "that intrigue in this
country was a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so
carefully, but you cannot foresee such a contretemps as this."
"Idiot!" the Prince cried. "Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was
amazed."
"He may be all those pleasant things," Lady Carey, said, "but he
is a gentleman."
He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady
Carey's victoria with a rug on his arm.
"Lucille," he said thoughtfully, "is locked in the morning-room.
She is prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is
over. Upon my word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and
cross to Paris to-night. Let England breed her own revolutions.
What do you say, Muriel? Will you come with me?"
She laughed scornfully.
"I'd as soon go with my coachman," she said.
His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
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