The Duchess to the Rescue
It may be that Lord Vernon had been so fortunate as to find a topic of conversation equally absorbing; at any rate, Nell entered the hotel with her sister rather subdued and tremulous, and they mounted to their rooms in silence. A week before, they would probably have thrown themselves into each other's arms and kissed each other and cuddled each other and cried over each other, without precisely knowing why, or, at least, without troubling to put the reason into words. But the events of the past few days had, imperceptibly, wrought a change in their relations. An impalpable veil had come between them, a subtle dissonance in point of view. They were pledged, as it were, to rival interests.
A woman who has no other confidante will, invariably, seek counsel and sympathy of her own reflected self; and if so it was in this case, for each of our two heroines went straight to her room, and locked the door, and sat down before her glass, and, chin in hands, communed long and earnestly with the image pictured there, gazing deep into its eyes, and thinking unutterable thoughts, which completely defy transcription.
At the same moment, to Archibald Rushford, sitting immersed in his morning newspaper, wholly unsuspicious of all this, the Prince of Markeld's card was handed. It may be noted in passing that, with the influx of patrons to the house, the American had found it necessary to retire to the privacy of his own apartment in order to enjoy the paper undisturbed.
"All rights show him up," he said, when he had glanced at the card; and almost immediately the Prince himself appeared.
Rushford started up with hand outstretched.
"Glad to see you, Prince," he said. "I was just figuring on looking you up and wondering how I'd better go about it—I didn't quite know what the etiquette of the thing was."
The Prince laughed.
"The etiquette is simple." he answered. "You have only to come to my door and knock."
"Refreshingly democratic!" and Rushford's eyes danced. "That would appeal to my countrymen. But my ignorance was natural enough. You see, we never have the chance, at home, to hobnob with Highnesses. That's the reason so many of us come abroad. But we're not the real thing—the genuine, simon-pure American stays at home and looks after his business."