Chapter Thirteen.
A Very Bad Dinner.
“And I could have told her so easily then,” thought Frank, as he went away feeling proud and pleased, and yet more troubled than ever. “Wean Andrew from his ideas? I wonder whether I could. Of course I shall try hard; and if I succeeded, what a thing to have done! I’m not going to think which side is right or wrong. We’re the King’s servants, and have nothing to do with such matters. Drew has been trying to get me over to their side. Now I’m going to make him come to ours, in spite of all the Mr George Selbys in London.”
That afternoon the Princess’s reception-rooms were crowded by a brilliant assemblage of court ladies and gentlemen, many of whom were in uniform; and there was plenty to take the attention of a lad fresh from the country, without troubling himself about political matters. He saw his father, but not to speak to. The latter gave him a quick look and a nod, though, which the boy interpreted to mean, “Don’t forget this evening.”
“Just as if I am likely to,” thought Frank, as he gazed proudly after the handsome, manly-looking officer. He had a glimpse or two of his mother, who was in close attendance upon the Princess, and with a natural feeling of pride the lad thought to himself that his father and mother were the most royal-looking couple there.
At last he found himself close to Andrew Forbes, who eagerly joined him, their duties having till now kept them separate.
“Isn’t it horrible?” said Andrew, with a look of disgust in his flushed face.
“Horrible! I thought it the grandest sight I have ever seen. What do you mean by horrible?”