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Parkins, a little disturbed, announced the arrivals. "The Princess of Eiderstrom and a gentleman. The Princess said that her errand with you was urgent, sir," he added, turning apologetically towards his master. The Princess was already in the room, and following her a short man in a suit of sombre black, wearing a white tie, and carrying a black bowler hat.

Seaman gazed steadfastly for a moment along the side of the wood. "Her Grace is coming," he said. "She seems to share the Duke's dislike of me, and she is too great a lady to conceal her feelings. Just one word before I go. The Princess Eiderstrom arrives this afternoon." Dominey frowned, then, warned by the keeper's shout, turned around and killed a hare.

Dominey rose to his feet, prepared to take his leave. "These matters will be solved for us," he murmured. "There is just one word more, on a somewhat more private matter," Terniloff said in an altered tone. "The Princess Eiderstrom is upstairs." "In this house?" "Waiting for a word with you. Our friend Seaman has been with her this evening.

In the shadows of the room he had fancied that he could see Stephanie Eiderstrom holding out her arms, calling to him to fulfill the pledges of long ago, and behind her "Have you ever been in love, Mangan?" Dominey asked his companion. "I, sir? Well, I'm not sure," the man of the world replied, a little startled by the abruptness of the question.

Dominey spent a very impatient hour that evening in his sitting-room at the Carlton, waiting for Seaman. It was not until nearly seven that the latter appeared. "Are you aware," Dominey asked him, "that I am expected to call upon the Princess Eiderstrom at seven o'clock?" "I have your word for it," Seaman replied, "but I see no tragedy in the situation.

The Ambassador, Prince Terniloff, was bidding farewell to his wife's cousin, the Princess Eiderstrom, the last of his guests. She drew him on one side for a moment. "Your Excellency," she said, "I have been hoping for a word with you all the evening." "And I with you, dear Stephanie," he answered. "It is very early. Let us sit down for a moment."

He was conscious even of regarding him with a greater feeling of kindness than ever before. "My friend," he said, "you have shown me that you are conscious of one dilemma in which I find myself placed, and which I confess is exercising me to the utmost. Let me now advise you of another. The Princess Eiderstrom has brought me an autograph letter from the Kaiser, commanding me to marry her."

Everard Dominey cannot throw himself at the feet of the Princess Eiderstrom, well-known to be one of the most passionate women in Europe, whilst her love affair with Leopold Von Ragastein is still remembered. Remember that the question of our identities might crop up any day.

As an English nobleman you have a perfect right to enjoy the friendship of the Princess Eiderstrom." "And I thought you were a man of sentiment!" Dominey scoffed. "I thought you understood a little of human nature. Stephanie Eiderstrom is Hungarian born and bred. Even race has never taught her self-restraint.

It was dated barely a fortnight back. There was neither beginning or ending; just a couple of sentences scrawled across the thick notepaper: "It is my will that you offer your hand in marriage to the Princess Stephanie of Eiderstrom. Your union shall be blessed by the Church and approved by my Court. Dominey sat as a man enthralled with silence. She watched him.