Eveline had kept religiously to her promise of always informing Prince Theobald when she expected guests, and the prince reserved to himself the right of a veto if he did not approve of their reception, for there were among the dilettante, and even among apparently most respectable gentlemen, certain individuals who should not have the entrée to the drawing-room of a lady who is not living under her husband's roof.
The prince liked pleasant society, and, if he approved of the company, enjoyed himself all the more that Eveline did the honors for him.
On this particular day Eveline had told the prince she expected two visitors. One was Peter Saffran.
The prince laughed. "Poor fellow!" he said, "treat him well; it will do him good." But when he heard his excellency the minister was coming he frowned heavily. "What is this?" he asked. "What brings him to see you?"
"Why! Is he a woman-hater?"
"On the contrary, he is a scoundrel, only he wears a hypocrite's cloak. Great men who are at the helm and guide public affairs have their weaknesses, but they dare not sin openly. A man in his position might as soon become a member of the Jockey Club as visit a beautiful actress, unless he had some ostensible reason to give for so doing."
"But he has a reason, and a very good one. I asked him to make the appointment."
"You invited him here!" The prince's face grew more cloudy.
"That is to say, I asked him to give me a private audience, and his secretary wrote to say his excellency would prefer to come here."