“You are diplomatic. After all, his motives do not concern us.”
“May I entreat a favour of your Majesty? My friend has done me the honour to invite me to assist at his wedding, and if I might be permitted to inform him of the gracious intentions with which——”
“You may intimate in private the probable course of events, but not publicly. When is the wedding? Not settled? Oh, you need not try to deceive me for politeness’ sake, Chevalier. It is better that I should not know until it is all over. Make it a chose jugée; there is no going behind that, you know. The sooner the better.”
The day after this interview had taken place at Vindobona, a letter from Cyril reached Llandiarmid, communicating the great news to Lord Caerleon, and containing a proposal which excited the younger members of the family almost to the verge of lunacy.
“I want you to do something for me, Caerleon. Will you bring Nadia and the young ones to Damascus for the wedding? I need not tell you what a pleasure your presence would be to me, and Ernestine would appreciate the kindness deeply, especially as none of her own family are likely to be here. You need give yourselves no trouble. Goldberg has taken Ormsea’s yacht, the White Lady, for a year or two, and will pick you up at Brindisi and bring you straight to Beyrout. He is charged also with the duty of securing the parson, for there does not happen to be an English clergyman here at this moment, and we have decided that it would be unfair to ask any of the German missionaries to officiate, since they stand in such abject terror of the Emperor Sigismund. I have made up my mind you will all come. Bring Wright with you, if you can tear the old fellow away from domestic joys. It will be something for him to remember all the rest of his life. It is just possible that there may be some further sights and ceremonies that will interest you after the wedding; but I don’t want to estimate prematurely the yield of the international incubator. Telegraph to Goldberg at Venice if you can come, and entreat Nadia—for Ernestine’s sake, for my sake, for any sake—to leave her Needlework Guild and Nursing Association and Society for Making People Virtuous by Act of Parliament to take care of themselves for a month or so, and to give the bride the support of her presence. I know you’ll come, old man.”
“Oh, father!” burst from Philippa, as her father finished reading the letter aloud. “Oh, mother!”
“You feel that we ought to go, Carlino?” said Lady Caerleon.
“Now, how did you know that? Well, yes, I do.”
“Of course,” said Philippa; “and Usk’s vacation begins to-morrow. He can meet us in London as we pass through. It all fits in beautifully. To see Uncle Cyril married, and to a Queen! It’s like a book—like an old romance. Don’t you feel as if you were a Crusader, father? To go to Palestine, and all this as well!”