"And who was the Princess?" I felt compelled to ask, though I knew perfectly well.
"The Princess Hildegarde. Do you recall the night in London," to me, "when the same thing occurred? I am very anxious to meet this Princess who looks so like me."
"You will have that pleasure immediately after the opera," said I.
Pembroke's eyes said something to me then, and I rose.
"There is Mr. Wentworth. I wish to speak to him. Will you excuse me?"
"With pleasure!" laughed Pembroke.
I threaded my way through the gathering throng to the side of Mr.
Wentworth.
"How d'y' do, Winthrop?" he said, taking me by the arm. "Come into the conservatory. I want you to see some of the finest orchids that ever came from South America. The girls are looking well to-night. I suppose you noticed."
"Especially Phyllis." Our eyes met.
When we entered the conservatory, he suddenly forgot all about the orchids.