“The lady does not attend public balls, sir.” As he spoke Prince Mirkovics blessed secretly the strict principles in which Nadia Caerleon had brought up her daughter.
“Not go to balls? Why not?” asked the King, in unaffected astonishment.
“Possibly because her parents do not approve of the class of person she would meet there, sir,” replied Prince Mirkovics, bestowing a severe glance upon the would-be lady-killer, who looked offended.
“Oh, very well: then I shall command Count Mortimer to present her, that’s all. I mean to speak to her.”
“With what object, sir, if I may venture to ask?”
“Because I want to see whether she is as lively as she is handsome, of course. She ought to have plenty of fun in her, from her face.”
“If your Majesty is really desirous of making the lady’s acquaintance”—Prince Mirkovics was astonished and delighted by the sudden development in himself of such powers of diplomacy as he had never suspected hitherto—“surely it would be well to say nothing to Count Mortimer. As I ventured to hint just now, if his Excellency knew that you, sir, had been graciously pleased to express admiration of his niece, he would probably remove her at once from Ludwigsbad.”
“Hang it! so he would,” said the King peevishly. “It would be just like him.”
“Perhaps, sir, without mentioning the matter to Count Mortimer, I might have the honour of making your Majesty acquainted with the lady at a little entertainment of some sort. A ball, of course, is out of the question——”
“And moreover, their Highnesses the Princess of Dardania and Princess Ludmilla could not be present,” put in the Scythian officer.