"You're a calm one!" Ansley chuckled. "Oh, I believe the prince is to be there to-night. You've met him, I suppose?"
"No. I've had a rush of business lately, as Eliza said when she crossed the ice: haven't gone out much. Heard something about him, though. An American, isn't he? They say he's become quite popular in town."
Ansley nodded. "Quite a fine chap. His mother was an American—she married the Prince de Gramont; an international affair of the past generation. De Gramont led her a dog's life, I hear, until he was killed in a duel. She lived in Paris with the boy, sent him to school here at home, and he was at Yale when the war broke. He was technically a French subject, so he went back to serve his time.
"Still, he's an American now. Calls himself Henry Gramont, and would drop the prince stuff altogether if these French people around here would let him. He's supposed to be going into some kind of business, but just now he's having the time of his life. Every old dowager is trying to catch him."
Jachin Fell nodded. "I've no use for nobility; a rotten crowd! But this chap appears interesting. I'll be glad to size him up. Ah, here's my domino now!"
A page brought the domino. Fell, discarding the mask, threw the domino about his shoulders, and the two men left the club in company.
They sought their destination afoot—the home of the banker Joseph Maillard. The streets were riotous, filled with an eddying, laughing crowd of masquers and merrymakers of all ages and sexes; confetti twirled through the air, horns were deafening, and laughing voices rose into sharp screams of unrestrained delight.
Here and there appeared the rather constrained figures of tourists from the North. These, staid and unable to throw themselves into the utter abandon of this carnival spirit, could but stare in perplexed wonder at the scene, so alien to them, while they marvelled at the gaiety of these Southern folk who could go so far with liberty and yet not overstep the bounds of license.
At last gaining St. Charles Avenue, with the Maillard residence a half-dozen blocks distant, the two companions found themselves well away from the main carnival throngs. Even here, however, was no lack of revellers afoot for the evening—stray flotsam of the downtown crowds, or members of neighbourhood gatherings on their way to entertainment.
As the two walked along they were suddenly aware of a lithe figure approaching from the rear; with a running leap and an exclamation of delight the figure forced itself in between them, grasping an arm of either man, and a bantering voice broke in upon their train of talk.