And Margaret answered her almost as she had answered Blair.
"Do I, dear? It must be because I am so happy!"
And indeed it was a very happy little party in the small dining-room that night. Blair was like the old Blair, full of stories of his wild youth, ready with the old light laughter; just the same Blair who used to win the hearts of old and young in the time before Austin Ambrose had commenced to set his snares.
They were so merry in a wise fashion, so light-hearted, that they had forgotten the past entirely; and it was not until the two ladies had left the room—the princess beseeching the two gentlemen not to leave them alone in the drawing-room too long, in case they should quarrel—that Blair grew suddenly quiet.
"I can't tell you how I have looked forward to this visit, Rivani," he said. "I have been looking forward to it since that day in Florence when we shook hands at parting, and you promised to come and stay with us."
"I am very glad to come," said the prince, with sincere earnestness. "Gladder still to see you so well—and the countess."
"You thinks she looks well?" said Blair, his face lighting up at once.
"She looks the picture of youth and health and happiness," said the prince, quietly, "and more beautiful—you will pardon me—than ever in my eyes."
"And in mine, old fellow!" said Blair, holding out his hand.
There was silence after that significant meeting of the palms, then Blair said, "Any news?"