“Name it?”
“Because you would be putting an affront upon the lady who has promised to become my wife. I am quite aware that her presence in my sitting room is unusual, but under the circumstances I do not feel called upon to offer a general explanation. I shall say nothing beyond the fact that a single censorious remark will be considered by me as an insult to my affianced wife.”
The Princess abandoned her chorus of mournful sounds and dried her eyes. Lord Waltenby was speechless.
“But why all this mystery?” the Princess asked pitifully. “It is a great event, this. Why did you not tell me, Catherine, when you came to my room?”
“There has been some little misunderstanding,” Julian explained. “It is now removed. It brought us,” he added, “very near tragedy. After what I have told you, I beg whatever may seem unusual to you in this visit with which Catherine has honoured me will be forgotten.”
Lord Maltenby drew a little breath of relief. Fortunately, he missed that slight note of theatricality in Julian’s demeanour which might have left the situation still dubious.
“Very well, then, Julian,” he decided, “there is nothing more to be said upon the matter. Miss Abbeway, you will allow me to escort you to your room. Such further explanations as you may choose to offer us can be very well left now until the morning.”
“You will find that the whole blame for this unconventional happening devolves upon me,” Julian declared.
“It was entirely my fault,” Catherine murmured repentantly. “I am so sorry to have given any one cause for distress. I do not know, even now—”
She turned towards Julian. He leaned forward and raised her fingers to his lips.