"Well, leave it alone. Don't disturb my things, Aunt Fanny. How many times must I tell you—"
"Good Lawd!" was all that Aunt Fanny could say.
"Don't forget about the time-tables," said Beverly, as she sallied forth for her walk in the park.
In the afternoon she went driving with Princess Yetive and the young Duke of Mizrox, upon whose innocent and sufficiently troubled head she was heaping secret abuse because of the news he brought. Later, Count Marlanx appeared at the castle for his first lesson in poker. He looked so sure of himself that Beverly hated him to the point of desperation. At the same time she was eager to learn how matters stood with Baldos. The count's threat still hung over her head, veiled by its ridiculous shadow of mercy. She knew him well enough by this time to feel convinced that Baldos would have to account for his temerity, sooner or later. It was like the cat and the helpless mouse.
"It's too hot," she protested, when he announced himself ready for the game. "Nobody plays poker when it's 92 in the shade."
"But, your highness," complained the count, "war may break out any day. I cannot concede delay."
"I think there's a game called 'shooting craps,'" suggested she serenely. "It seems to me it would be particularly good for warriors. You could be shooting something all the time."
He went away in a decidedly irascible frame of mind. She did not know it, but Baldos was soon afterward set to work in the garrison stables, a most loathsome occupation, in addition to his duties as a guard by night.
After mature deliberation Beverly set herself to the task of writing home to her father. It was her supreme intention to convince him that she would be off for the States in an amazingly short time. The major, upon receiving the letter three weeks later, found nothing in it to warrant the belief that she was ever coming home. He did observe, however, that she had but little use for the army of Graustark, and was especially disappointed in the set of men Yetive retained as her private guard. For the life of her, Beverly could not have told why she disapproved of the guard in general or in particular, but she was conscious of the fact, after the letter was posted, that she had said many things that might have been left unwritten. Besides, it was not Baldos's fault that she could not sleep; it was distinctly her own. He had nothing to do with it.
"I'll bet father will be glad to hear that I am coming home," she said to Yetive, after the letter was gone.