"That will make me very happy," he said. "I shall attend you at four o'clock."
Thenceforward, conversation became general. Prince Shan, with the air of one who has achieved his immediate object, left his place by Maggie's side and talked with grave courtesy to her aunt. Presently the little party broke up, bound, it seemed, for the same theatre. Nigel had become a little serious.
"Well, you've made a good start, Maggie," he remarked, leaning forward in his place in the limousine.
"Have I?" Maggie answered thoughtfully. "I wonder!"
"I wish we could get at him in some different fashion," her companion observed uneasily.
"My dear man, I'm hardened to these enterprises," Maggie assured him. "I even let the President of the German Republic hold my hand once when his wife wasn't looking. Nothing came of it," she added, with a little sigh. "These Germans are terribly sentimental when it doesn't cost them anything. They've no idea of a fair exchange."
"By a 'fair exchange' you mean," her aunt suggested, a little censoriously, "that you expected him to barter his country's secrets for a touch of your fingers?"
"Or my lips, perhaps," Maggie added, with a little grimace. "Please don't look so serious, Aunt. I'm not really in love with Prince Shan, you know, and to-night I rather feel like marrying Nigel, if I can get him back again. I like his waistcoat buttons, and the way he has tied his tie."
"Too late, my dear," Nigel warned her. "I give you formal notice. I have transferred my affections."
"That decides me," Maggie declared firmly. "I shall collect you back again. I hate to lose an admirer."