The King bowed to Mrs. Spencer.
"Madame, I bid you good evening and good-bye," he said.
She curtsied low.
"I thank Your Majesty for your gracious consideration," she said.
Then she stepped quickly toward me and held out her hand.
"Will you not say farewell, Armand—as in the days, long past?" she asked.
I knew the Princess was looking; but I was in a generous mood. I took her hand and bowed over it.
"Captain Dalberg bids farewell to Colonel Spencer's wife," I said.
Then I followed the King.
A week has passed since the night in the Gallery. Madeline Spencer has gone—forever from my path, I trust. His Royal Highness, the Duke of Lotzen, has taken a long leave, and is sojourning on his mountain estates for the benefit of his health. There has been another supper of six at the Inn of the Twisted Pines—with four bottles of Imperial Tokay; and, afterward, a charming ride home in the moonlight.