"You'll know soon enough," said the other significantly.
"Am I to be restored to grace?"
"Oh, yes, but there is a certain amount of humble-pie to be eaten first. Also they are determined to clip your wings for the future—there is question of a marriage."
"Marriage—whew! Who is the lady, may I ask?"
Angelescu named a princess, Mirko's senior by several years and not renowned for her good looks. Mirko made a wry face.
"His Majesty is awfully keen on it, and if you were to upset the arrangement by any fresh escapades, I fancy your bed would not be of roses for some time to come—I hope you haven't been getting into any scrapes here?" He looked suspiciously at Mirko's tell-tale countenance.
"Come along, old man," said Mirko putting his arm through Angelescu's. "There is nothing very terrible—and nothing to be very proud of either; I'll tell you all about it presently. By the way I want you to do something for me to-night. I want you to take a message to a lady at the veglione."
"Why don't you go yourself?"
"I would rather not,—it might be embarrassing for both of us." He laughed uneasily. "Do you remember that little Andersen girl we met on a steamer the year we went to St. Petersburg?"
He felt Angelescu's arm stiffen under his, and had the light been stronger, he would have seen the bronzed cheek pale. They had reached Mirko's room and entered, closing the door after them.