“Where is Orondo?” asked Alcamayn, as he came toward Kerœcia. “In the street at the last marking of the sun I had speech with him, intent then upon immediate attendance here.”
Kerœcia paled visibly, and replied with difficulty:
“Orondo’s presence has lately honored me. He begs to absent himself at dinner,” she said, turning appealingly to Setos.
“Affairs of urgent moment must have decided him. His convenience and wish dictated the day and hour of our assemblage,” rejoined Setos. “May there be no evil import behind this sudden change.”
“Has the Dorado been seen to-day?” asked Alcamayn. “Twice I sought him on matters of state, but he was not at Iaqua.”
“He rowed out on the bay at an early gnomon, unattended,” responded Hanabusa. “Many times I hailed him, but he was unmindful of my presence.”
“The cares of his office sat heavily on my shoulders in consequence,” said Setos, with a show of assumed irritation.
By judicious complaint many a vain soul betrays its self-importance. Glancing around the room, to see if he had created the desired impression, Setos suddenly bethought him of Ildiko’s words. He bustled about for a few moments, and then gave escort to Kerœcia who was glad to escape to the dining-room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A REALIZATION OF LOVE WHICH BEGGARED LANGUAGE
Orondo returned not to Iaqua during the night. He went to a favorite nook in the gardens, the same he had taken such pride in showing to Kerœcia. Here he went over the ground again step by step, and that same pride lay in the dust at his feet grievously wounded. Trifles to which he had attached peculiar significance now seemed to him commonplace politeness.