The idea appealed to Prince Christodoridi, since it savoured of the methods of his ancestors, and he welcomed it with a pleased smile. But none the less, he put it aside valiantly.
“No, no; he is my guest, and we can’t force a wife upon him. But if I see anything to make me believe he has really come after Danaë, and that good manners are keeping him back—— But mind, not a word to your sister!”
“Oh no, lord!” said Angeliké heartily, with the full intention of disobeying at the earliest possible opportunity. When she went up to bed, creeping stealthily into their room, she found Danaë, as she expected, kneeling at the window with her eyes fixed on the distant lights of the yacht. With great tact, Angeliké took no notice of her immediate change of position, but yawned softly as she lighted the lamp.
“It has been a great day!” she said. “And to-morrow come the gifts. Oh, how I hope Narkissos will have chosen my dress the right colour! I told him blue and citron most carefully, but I know his father would get any other stripe that was a little cheaper, no matter how ugly it was.”
“Well, you have got Narkissos, at any rate,” said Danaë sharply. Angeliké’s claws were out in an instant.
“I believe you wanted him after all! You didn’t faint.”
“You know I don’t want him. I—I forgot.”
“You wouldn’t have done it at all if I had not cried out. If anyone had been looking they must have noticed. I know why you forgot,” with awful directness. “It was because of Milordo.”
“It wasn’t!” cried Danaë. But Angeliké’s distrustful eyes warned her that there was only one possible alternative, and she temporised. “Well, I was surprised to see him, of course.”
“Of course! If you mean glad, why don’t you say so?”