At the close of the luncheon, a servant handed around coffee and liqueurs. The prince turned to Louise.
"You must not keep our young friend too late," he said. "He has appointments with his tailor and other myrmidons who have undertaken to adorn his person."
"Alas," replied Louise, rising, "I, too, have to go early to my dressmaker's. Do the honors for me, prince, will you?—and I will make my adieus now."
They all rose. She nodded to Graillot and Faraday. The prince moved to stand by the door. For a moment she and John were detached from the others.
"I want to see you alone," he said under his breath. "When can I?"
She hesitated.
"I am so busy!" she murmured. "Next week there are rehearsals nearly every minute of the day."
"To-morrow," John said insistently. "You have no rehearsals then. I must see you. I must talk to you without this crowd."
It was his moment. Her half-formed resolutions fell away before the compelling ring in his voice and the earnest pleading in his eyes.
"I will be in," she promised, "to-morrow at six o'clock."