“I’ve never been introduced, Prince; but Captain Trevor—”
“Ah! I remember your saying something about his—Trevor!” he called back to an officer of his suite, “come hither!”
Reginald Trevor it was; who, parting from his place in the line, rode up, respectfully saluting.
“If I’m not mistaken, sir,” said the Prince, “you have acquaintance with the ladies we see yonder? Presumably the daughters of Master Ambrose Powell.”
“If it be they, your Highness, I once had. But it’s been dropped long ago.”
“What! A quarrel?”
“No, Prince,” answered the young officer, somewhat hesitatingly. “Not exactly that.”
“Only a little coolness, then. Well, perhaps I may be the means of restoring, friendly relations. But first I want you to perform the ceremonial of introduction. I hope you haven’t so far offended the damsels as to render you ineligible?”
Trevor stammered out a negative, at the same time announcing his readiness to comply with the Prince’s wish. He could not help himself, knowing it was more a command than request.
“Come along, then! Let us on to them. You, Colonel, keep the escort at halt here, till I ascertain whether we can have a night’s lodging at Hollymead House. That is,” he added in a jocular way, “whether we’ll be made welcome to it.”