"I have stated my terms, Count Gustav."
"My answer is that I accept all of them—except the last two;" and the laugh at his insolence was one of genuine enjoyment.
"Then there is no more to be said," I declared, rising.
"But indeed there is. Pray sit down again. We are going to talk this over frankly. There is always an alternative course in such affairs—that was why I was anxious to know your motive. Will you sit down?"
"No. I have said all I wish."
"Well, you gave me a surprise. I will give you one. You are Miss Christabel von Dreschler; or at all events you were, until you inherited your uncle's money and took his name with it. He was John P. Gilmore, of Jefferson City, Missouri. Now, allow me;" and he placed a chair for me with elaborate courtesy, while he regarded me with an expression of great satisfaction and triumph.
I sat down and he resumed his seat.
"By the way," he said, as if casually, "we are likely to be engaged some time, hadn't we better let Colonel Katona go?"
"I may still have to speak to him," I answered, drily.
"I don't think so, when he knows that you are Colonel von Dreschler's daughter—if I should have to tell him, that is—he will not be very friendly toward you. He will not, really. He is a very singular old man." The art with which he conveyed this threat was inimitably excellent.