“The Adjutant to Her Royal Highness,” she answered, knowing well he knew.
“True,” said he; “I quite forgot. Colonel Moore has pleasant quarters,” and he smiled.
His inference was too evident to miss. She was of the Regent’s Household and Moore was her most persistent suitor. She made no pretense to conceal her displeasure, though she echoed his laugh.
“Yes, very pleasant,” she answered, “yet they won’t be his for long—he but holds them for another.”
“And the other?” maliciously driving her to the choice between the Archduke and himself.
She raised her eyebrows.
“There could be but one, my lord,” she answered, looking at him with calm directness.
He laughed. “May be we do not guess alike; and I fear me, when my other comes, the dashing Colonel will have to make a far move—beyond the border.”
The blue eyes snapped. “I can well believe Your Highness,” she retorted. “When you move in, Colonel Moore would scorn to stay this side the border.”
Elise d’Essoldé never forgot the look that came in Lotzen’s eyes. It was, she said afterwards to the Regent, as though he had actually struck her in the face. And, for a little while, he did not speak. Then as she drew back into the room, he bowed, his hand upon his heart.