He tossed his cigarette into the grate. "Sometimes it is well to sleep over a problem," he said. He poured two measures of liquor. "Here's to a clear mind and a right decision in the morning."
We drank it standing—and I, at least, with feeling.
I cannot say if a good night's rest had anything to do with it, but, when I awoke, my mind was made up, and I was ready to give answer to the King. It chanced that Courtney and I met at breakfast—the American customs as to meals prevailed at the Embassy—and had the room to ourselves; possibly, because we were very late and the day was very charming.
"Well," said he, "I see you've made your decision; which gets it, Valeria or America?"
"Behold a prospective Archduke!" said I.
He arose and, hand over heart, bowed low. "I salute Your Royal Highness!" he said.
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, "don't be ridiculous."
"I am quite serious. It's an unusual pleasure to have one worth saluting."
I waved the compliment aside. "If it is to terminate my old friendships or bring formality into private intercourse I shall remain American," I declared.
The diplomat smiled. "Don't you see it all rests with yourself? You can be as formal or as familiar as you please."