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A little awkward about the figure I found His Grace, but otherwise I think that I should have passed muster wherever he was known. I have also passed as Sir William Laureston, on the evening when my rival artiste here sang the praises of Imperial England." Andrea Korust leaned forward with venomous eyes.
Altogether these parties seemed to be the means of bringing together a series of most interesting people, interesting not only in themselves, but in their relations to one another. It was noticeable, however, that from this side of his little gatherings Andrea Korust remained wholly apart. He admitted that music and cheerful companionship were the only two things in life he really cared for.
It was a picturesque, a wonderful scene enough. Pale as a marble statue, with the covert smile of the gracious host, Andrea Korust sat at the head of the table, well pleased with his company, as indeed he had the right to be. By his side was a great American statesman, who was travelling round the world, and yet had refused all other invitations of this sort.
"Since you insist upon knowing the Baron de Grost, at your service!" he announced. Andrea Korust was, for the moment, speechless. One of the women shrieked. The real Mr. von Tassen looked around him helplessly. "Will someone be good enough to enlighten me as to the meaning of this?" he begged. "Is it a roast? If so, I only want to catch on. Let me get to the joke, if there is one.
Peter made his way thoughtfully back to his seat. He explained the situation to his wife so far as he could, and sent her home. Then he waited about until the car returned, smoking a cigarette and trying once more to remember if he had ever heard anything from Sogrange of Andrea Korust or his brother.
We sup in Hamilton Place with Andrea Korust and his brother." "With whom?" Peter asked, surprised. "With the Korust Brothers," she repeated. "I have just been talking to Andrea. He calls himself a Hungarian. Bah! They are as much Hungarian, those young men, as I am!" Peter leaned slightly against the table and looked thoughtfully at his companion.
Peter made his way thoughtfully back to his seat. He explained the situation to his wife so far as he could, and sent her home. Then he waited until the car returned, smoking a cigarette and trying once more to remember if he had ever heard anything of Andrea Korust or his brother from Sogrange.
At the moment of parting, the beautiful eyes of Mademoiselle Korust had been raised to his very earnestly. "You will come again very soon to-morrow night?" she had whispered. "Is it necessary that you bring Mademoiselle Celaire?" "It is altogether unnecessary," Peter replied. "Let me try and entertain you instead, then!" It was precisely at that instant that Andrea had sent for his sister.
Slight eccentricities of toilette for a part of the gathering was distinctly Bohemian were softened and subdued. The whole effect was somewhat weird, but also picturesque. Andrea Korust advanced from a little group to meet his guests. Off the stage he seemed at first sight frailer and slighter than ever.
Andrea Korust was bending over the piano to give some instructions to his accompanist. Peter leaned forward and his face and tone were strangely altered. "You will find General Noseworthy of the Indian Army a little inquisitive, Colonel," he remarked. The latter turned sharply round. There was meaning in those few words, without doubt!
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