“Per Bacco! what a rude savage! Very great bore, but I shall have to challenge him. And hang me if I have the least idea what the row is about. However, I must stay here until I keep my engagement with the little beauty for the Lancers, and then—to teach that uncivilized brute that he is not to indulge his savage propensities in ladies’ drawing-rooms.”
And so saying, the young fellow, who with all his effeminacy, was brave enough, sauntered away to look up a brother officer to act as his second, and afterwards to wait for his partner in the Lancers, his mind being equally occupied by the thoughts of dancing and dueling.
Meanwhile, Alexander had moved to another standpoint, from which, unseen by her, he could follow every movement of his beautiful and admired young wife.
“I suppose,” he muttered to himself, “I shall have to meet that young coxcomb. For after what I said to him unless he is a poltroon as well as a puppy, he will challenge me. Well! I don’t care a rush for my own life, and it is not likely that I should care for his——Yes! and by all that is maddening, there is another fellow I shall have to fight!” he exclaimed, as he watched Prince Ernest of Hohenlinden, who was bestowing on the beauty of the evening much more devotion than it was at all necessary to show to a mere partner in the dance.
Just then the dance came to an end, and his Highness led Drusilla back to her seat beside Mrs. Hammond in the bay window.
Alexander followed, keeping out of her sight.
“I fear you are very much fatigued,” said Prince Ernest, still retaining her hand, and gazing with respectful tenderness upon her flushed cheeks and brilliant eyes. “Let me bring you an ice,” he continued, with affectionate solicitude.
“No, thanks,” said Drusilla, courteously, but withdrawing her hand.
“A glass of water then?”
“Nothing, thanks.”