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We talked for an hour after tea this afternoon, and I found her most interesting. She has been living in England for years, it seems, down in Chelsea, studying sculpture." "She is a remarkably clever young woman," Julian said thoughtfully, "but a little incomprehensible. If the Princess Torski is her aunt, who were her parents?"
Hannaway Wells, reserved yet, urbane, a wonderful type of the supreme success of mediocrity; a couple of young soldiers, light-hearted and out for a good time, of whom Julian took charge; an Oxford don, who had once been Lord Maltenby's tutor; and last of all the homely, very pleasant-looking, middle-aged lady, Princess Torski, followed by her niece.
"All arrived. I suppose they'll be down directly. Mr. Hannaway Wells is here." "Good old Wells!" Julian murmured. "How does he look since he became a Cabinet Minister?" "Portentous," Lady Maltenby replied; with a smile. "He doesn't look as though he would ever unbend. Then the Shervintons are here, and the Princess Torski your friend Miss Abbeway's aunt." "The Princess Torski?" Julian repeated.
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