After supper Prince Ernest led Drusilla back to her seat, and stood devoting himself to her service until the next dance was called and Captain Hepsworth came up to claim her as his partner in the Lancers.
Very sweetly Drusilla smiled on the young dragoon, as she gave him her hand and let him lead her forth to the dance.
But not Drusilla’s smile of courtesy nor the young officer’s simper of gratified vanity enraged Alick half so much as the air and manner assumed by Prince Ernest.
He, the prince, gazed after the retreating form of the beauty until she was lost in the crowd, and then with a profound sigh he took possession of her vacated seat, picked up a flower that might or might not have fallen from her bouquet, pressed it to his lips and put it in his bosom.
“I’ll kill him for that, or he shall kill me! I hardly care which!” growled the maniac in the depth of his heart. He would have liked to throttle his Highness on the spot; and in refraining from doing so he only postponed his vengeance.
When the Lancers came to an end Drusilla returned, obsequiously attended by the young dragoon, and followed by General Lyon and all the members of her party.
Prince Ernest started up from the sofa and with respectful tenderness took Drusilla’s hand and placed her in her seat, and remained standing beside her.
“My dear, it is four o’clock, and you look very tired-had we not better go?” inquired General Lyon, speaking in a low tone to Drusilla.
“Just as you and Anna please, dear uncle. As for myself, I am quite ready,” she replied.
“So am I,” said Mrs Hammond.