"Ah yes, the dear Baron. Perhaps it is better."
Fitz took the cloak from the hands of the lady, but before he could place it around his wife's shoulders voices were heard at the far end of the long room.
Three men had entered.
The first of these to approach us was a tall, stout and florid personage wearing full Court dress and so many decorations that he looked like a caricature. Certainly he was a magnificent figure of a man, but, at this moment, a little lacking in serenity. His face showed traces of a consternation that would have been almost comic had it not been rather painful. At the sight of the six of us he spread out his hands and gesticulated to those who had come with him into the room.
In an undertone he said something in Illyrian, which I did not understand.
In striking contrast to the perturbation of the Ambassador the manner of the Princess was as amiable and composed as if she were seated in the castle at Blaenau.
"Ah, Baron, you have dined well?"
"Excellently, madam, excellently!" said the Ambassador. The consternation in his face was slowly deepening.
"Très bien; it is well. I have heard my father say that cooking was the only art in which the good English are not quite perfect. And le bon roi Edouard, I hope he is in good health?"
"In robust health, madam, in robust health."