“Why so sad, gentle youth?” asked Cyril, catching sight of his face.
“They are saying all over the place that the Princess of Dardania has—has given you the sack, Count,” said Mansfield tragically.
“They are—are they? Really there’s something positively demoniacal about that woman’s cleverness! And you, Mansfield, you—try to comfort me in my misery with the assurance that my sad plight is known all over the town!”
“It’s not true?” burst from Mansfield.
“Since the Princess has spread the report, she must intend it to be believed. Is it for me to contradict a lady? Rather let me study how best to corroborate her assertion. I must go to dinner in a Norfolk jacket, I suppose, and neglect my appearance generally. If Dietrich could only be induced to forget to shave me! But perhaps it would be just as effective if I let my moustache droop for a day or two. What do you say, Mansfield? You will look disconsolate too, of course—in fact, you are doing it already—but you will wear your rue with a difference. The Confidant is only allowed to go mad in white linen, you know. Tilburina’s white satin must be reserved for me.”
“But the Princess has given orders that you are to be refused admission if you try to see her.”
“Oh, that’s what is afflicting you, is it? Make your mind easy; I have no intention whatever of trying to see the Princess.”
“But will you let her go on spreading these lies about you?”
“Why not, if it pleases her? They are telling worse lies about me all over Europe, and it does me no harm. You and the Chevalier Goldberg seem to take these things to heart much more than I do. By the bye, mind you show up when the Chevalier arrives to-morrow. He wants to speak to you.”
The Chevalier’s reason for wishing to see Mansfield was made clear on his arrival the next day, when the unwilling secretary found himself invested with a gold watch and chain of surpassing magnificence. The watch was decorated with an inscription to the effect that it was a slight token of admiration and gratitude for Mansfield’s bravery in saving Count Mortimer’s life, and the chain carried a small fortune in the way of charms, which puzzled the recipient not a little. The Chevalier had originally intended his testimonial of gratitude to take the form of a diamond ring of the size and lustre commonly seen only on South African mine-owners and the monarchs of high finance, but on consulting Cyril he found that such an ornament in Mansfield’s possession would never see the light of day, and with reluctance chose instead the best watch that money could buy. He had taken a great fancy to Mansfield, purely on Cyril’s account, and he dismissed him now with an assurance of future favour which would have driven one of his own nation wild with joy. Mansfield, who was English, and failed to appreciate properly the power which the Chevalier possessed in right of his millions, received the promise without any particular emotion, and went out for a mountain walk. Left alone together, the Chevalier and Cyril turned their attention to business. They spoke in English, for the Chevalier was proud of his proficiency in that language, and liked to keep himself in practice.