They were, however, so absorbed that neither perceived the approach of a footman until the man actually set down a small golden tray with two little porcelain cups of tea on the stand between them, and retired.
Valerie looked up with a sudden shudder of terror. Had the company, or any one of their number, overheard any part of the fatal interview? No, the company were drinking tea, at the other end of the room.
And now the Duke of Hereward, with a tea-cup in his hand, sauntered toward them, saying, as he reached the stand:
"Lady C. has just been telling me that you are showing the duchess some interesting family pictures there—among the rest, those of your belle fiancee. When shall I congratulate you, Count?"
"Not yet; I will advise your grace of my marriage," answered the count, gravely.
"Something gone wrong in that direction," thought the duke, but his good humor was invincible.
"If you have no engagement for to-morrow evening, I hope you will come and dine with us en famille, for we do not see much company, the duchess and myself."
Valerie cast an imploring look on the count, silently praying him to decline the invitation; but Volaski did not understand the meaning of the look, or did not care to do so, for he immediately accepted the invitation in the following unequivocal terms:
"I have no engagement for to-morrow; and I shall be very happy to come and dine with you."
"So be it then," said the duke, frankly. "Now, Valerie, my love, bid the count good-evening. It is time to go."