“Hadn’t you better go away till I’ve dressed?”
“We want to stay and see you dress,” the leader responded.
“I’m not worth seeing, I assure you,” said Alistair. “I dress very badly.”
It seemed doubtful whether the excuse would be accepted, when fortunately a warning cry was heard from the doorway, and a voice as of one speaking with authority called out: “Come here directly!”
The head of the invading party cast a hasty glance round the room, and only remarking regretfully to his brother: “I can’t see his teeth,” withdrew in good order.
Stuart did not offer to accompany his hosts to their little country church. But the sight of the family party setting out across the park, and the far-off sound of the bell, had a soothing effect upon his spirit. Contrast is the secret of all beauty, and perhaps the prodigal had never considered how much of their charm would depart from the rocks and valleys of Bohemia were there no Puritan plain without.
In the afternoon he found himself left alone with the Princess, after they had taken tea in the garden. The scent of the roses was all about them, and the bees drummed restlessly as they went by. It was a perfect piece of English landscape, and the perfect type of English womanhood fitted into it like a picture in its natural frame.
“Lord Alistair,” she said, with quiet seriousness, “I want to ask you if you will let the Prince help you. He has never forgotten your boyish friendship; he is attached to you still, and he only wants to see his way clear to do something for you.”
Alistair murmured an expression of gratitude.
“I hope you will look on me as a friend too,” the Duchess of Gloucester went on. “Will you let me speak to you frankly, and will you be frank with me in return?”