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Updated: May 9, 2025
I thought this was one. Then I said: "Tell me about Lotzen's visit with you in the North." "He was there a week." "More's the pity," said I. "For him yes." "For him?" I echoed. She nodded. "I feel very sorry for Ferdinand." Then she blushed. "I think he does love me, Armand." "I can't blame him for that," said I. "He's a queer sort if he doesn't."
Instead, however, someone in a Colonel's uniform was her partner to open the dance. I turned to Courtney interrogatingly. "It is Prince Charles, Lotzen's brother," he explained. "And the Duke?" I asked. "Still with the Army, I suppose." Then the Princess swung by and, catching my eye, gave me a quick smile. "Sort of a relief, isn't it?" Courtney remarked. I nodded mechanically.
"But, first; this is Thursday if you do not tell His Majesty of Lotzen's perfidy by Saturday, I shall do it, myself." And I knew she would so I made no protest. "Put on the green habit and the plumed hat, dear," I said, as I held back the door.
He had been thoughtful and considerate to me to an exceptional degree, but, at the same time, without undue effusiveness. In a word, he had treated me with every possible attention our rank and consanguinity demanded. Even Courtney could find nothing to criticise in Lotzen's behavior; nor had his secret agents been able to detect anything sub rosa.
This time, Lotzen's stare was even longer. Then, suddenly, he laughed. "I thought, for a moment, you actually meant it," he said. She put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Come, monsieur, let us be frank with each other," she said. "Not only am I not Armand Dalberg's wife, but you have always known it." He frowned.
I would have to admit knowing her; that would only whet their curiosity and bring further questions. To tell the whole story was absurd and, yet, only a little of it would leave a rather unpleasant inference against me. At any rate, on Dehra's account, I did not want the matter discussed. I could feel Lotzen's glance, and I knew he was waiting only for a break in Lady Radnor's discourse.
I was beginning to understand Lotzen's sudden change of demeanor toward me. "What did you tell him, little woman?" I asked. She looked up with a bright smile. "See how I've spoiled you," she said. "Then, spoil me just a little more," I urged. "Well I told him it was you," she whispered. The understanding was growing rapidly. "And what did he say to that?"
It was not a woman's throw. Madeline Spencer had learned the man's swing, in her Army days, and, had the vase struck home, the chances are there would have been a new King in Dornlitz, that night. And such was Lotzen's thought, for he smiled wickedly and glanced at me. But, quick though she was, the King was quicker. He jerked his head aside.
Lotzen's real claim to the Crown is, in justice, subordinate to yours and he knows it and so does the King, or he would not have put you on probation, so to speak, with the implied promise to give you back your own again, if you prove worthy." "That's one way to look at it," said I, "and I reckon I shall have to accept it. In fact, I'm remitted to it or to chucking the whole thing overboard."
You are, therefore, permitted to depart to them forthwith and to remain indefinitely." Lotzen's hand rose in salute. "Yes, Your Majesty," he answered. The King bowed to Mrs. Spencer. "Madame, I bid you good evening and good-bye," he said. She curtsied low. "I thank Your Majesty for your gracious consideration," she said. Then she stepped quickly toward me and held out her hand.
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