Adrian took the arm-chair which the other advanced, and himself indicated a seat very near for his cousin. He had, of course, seen Allard on entering, but, accustomed to the constant presence of others, lent no further attention to the gentleman who remained standing at the shadowed end of the salon. On Stanief his large, intent eyes were fixed with an imperiously eager scrutiny.
"You are the same as always, as you were last winter," he declared slowly. "Dalmorov has insisted that I would find you very different, now."
"The Baron Dalmorov is more than kind," Stanief replied, betrayed into his unusual frown. "May I ask why I should have changed?"
"Because you are Regent, and you govern all."
"I beg pardon, sire; if I am Regent, you are none the less Emperor."
Over the young face swept an expression that so altered, so hardened it, that it was as if another and dual self came into view.
"Then I rule you, as my father did," he flashed.
Allard gasped in his corner; was this the child of fourteen whom he had expected to amuse? And not as to a child was given the difficult answer by the one who knew him.
"Yes, sire," Stanief returned steadily. "But—"
"But! You say but?"