CHAPTER XX
THE DEPARTURE OF THE DUKE
As Dolores and I had both anticipated, the result of her interview with her father on the subject of her affections was entirely satisfactory to us both. The Don expressed himself satisfied, too, with the consultation, and gave us his blessing in the good old-fashioned way still in vogue in Aquazilia, or at any rate among the adherents of the old monarchy. We knelt at his feet to receive it. The result was a paragraph in the Morning Post, as follows:—
"A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place, between
William Frederick, only son of the late Sir Henry and Lady Mary
Anstruther, and Dolores, only daughter of Don Juan d'Alta, for some
years Prime Minister of the late Queen Inez of Aquazilia."
This announcement brought us a shower of congratulations and inquiries as to the date of the wedding.
That query I naturally left to Dolores to answer, and at my earnest solicitation she very considerately decided, having in view my intense impatience in the matter, that the paternal assent—with blessing—-having been given in the month of February, we should be married in April.
Yes, absolutely married! The idea took me greatly by surprise at first. I used to wake in the morning, and the thought would in a manner sweetly confront me. It was as if a little mischievous Cupid sat on the end rail of my bed and revelled in his work.
"William Frederick," he seemed to say, "you're going to be married.
You're going to marry Dolores. What do you think of it?"
I did think a great deal of it, and the thought to me was ecstasy.
I often used to wonder, as I contemplated in my mind's eye this little wicked Cupid sitting on my bed, whether he went and sat in like manner on Dolores', and if he did, what the little imp of mischief said to her.