"Sabine, you darling!" the Princess cried, while Girolamo, kept up an hour later to welcome his god-mamma, screamed with joy.
"Now tell me everything, everything, pet!" Moravia demanded, as she poured out the tea. "Has the divorce been settled? How soon will you be free? When can you get married to this nice Englishman?"
"I don't exactly know, Morri—the law is such a strange thing; however, my—husband—has agreed and begun to take the necessary steps by requesting me to go back to him, which I have refused to do."
"You are looking perfectly splendid, dear. Having all that brain stimulation evidently suits you. Wasn't the visit of Lord Fordyce delightful in that romantic old castle? What did you do all the time? and what was the friend like?—you did not tell me."
Sabine stirred her tea.
"He only stayed one night—he was quite a nice creature—Mr. Arranstoun."
"Of the castle?" The Princess was thrilled. "Why, darling, he must be the one that they say is going to marry Daisy Van der Horn. He has got some matrimonial tangle like you have, and when he is through with it, Daisy is such dead nuts on him, they say she is certain to get him to marry her! Do tell me exactly what he is like—I am not over fond of Daisy, you know—but she is a splendid specimen of dash and vim."
"He is good-looking, Morri—and he has got 'it.'"
"I gathered that from all that I have heard of him here. Old Miss Buskin, Daisy's aunt, you remember the old horror, says he is 'just too sweet,' and 'that sassy'—you know her frightfully vulgar way of speaking!—that even she is 'afraid to be alone in the room with him!'"
"I dare say—he—looked like that—he ought to suit Daisy," and then Sabine felt she had been spiteful and tried to divert matters by asking where Mr. Cloudwater was.