“I see you are not accustomed to such frankness,” she rattled on; “but I am frank or nothing. If I think nice things about people, I believe in saying them—yes, even to their faces; ugly ones, also, sometimes!”
“But you talk almost like an American!” cried Mrs. Davis.
“It was in America I learned my English,” the countess explained. “I was there with my parents as a girl. At Washington.”
Mrs. Davis had a vision of the countess’s father as a great diplomat. But Selden had another start. She had not mentioned Washington to him that afternoon; she had spoken only of Montana.
Miss Davis had been looking at the countess intently, with startled eyes, as though striving to recall some memory.
“I should be so glad to talk to you about it,” added the countess. She had noticed the girl’s intent look, and turned full face to her, so that she got all the benefit of the slanting eyes and the thin, arched brows. “Perhaps you will have tea with me....”
“You must have tea with us!” cried Mrs. Davis. “To-morrow?”
“If you wish,” assented the countess with a gracious smile, which included the younger woman.
Meanwhile the king and the baron had been consulting together in undertones; from their aspect it was evident that something had gone amiss.
“I was forced to send Danilo on an important errand this afternoon,” said the king finally, “and he has not yet returned. He has had an accident perhaps.”