CHAPTER XVIII
Ughtred, with a deep sigh of relief, sank into an easy-chair, and mopped his forehead in most unkingly fashion. He had escaped for a moment into the royal ante-room.
“Nicholas,” he exclaimed, “if I am to be preserved for the service of the State order me a whisky-and-soda. This is harder work than our ride from Castle Reist.”
Reist touched the bell and smiled.
“It is not yet concluded,” he said. “I have many yet upon my list who have not been presented to your Majesty. There must be no heartburnings to-night. We must make no enemies.”
Ughtred sat up with a sudden sense of injury.
“Nicholas,” he demanded, “where is your sister?”
Reist’s face was imperturbable.