“You diplomatists want all the credentials sealed and delivered,” laughed his brother-in-law.  “There’s something aristocratic looking about this Rojanow, too, which one does not expect to see in a foreigner.  But I’m glad enough to invite any one out of the common for his grace.  He must be wearied with this endless court etiquette and court gossip, year in and year out.  The duke, by the way, seems to have taken a great fancy to this young Roumanian already.”

“Yes, so it seems,” said Wallmoden, a cloud gathering on his brow.

“As for the man’s history, if he has any, what does it matter to us?  Well, I must look after Toni, and see how she’s getting along without that lover of hers.  That was a queer freak of Regine’s.  As soon as anything concerning her beloved Burgsdorf comes on the tapis, nothing will keep her.  And she raises such a racket with her son, too.  She might as well have left Will here.  No one knows why she dragged him away; just before the duke came, too.—­I’m sure I’ll never understand your sister.”

“It’s a good thing she did,” muttered Wallmoden, as he separated from von Schoenau.  “If Willibald had seen his boyhood’s friend here, there would have been another scene, doubtless.  Who would have thought that Hartmut would carry his defiance so far as to go to a house where he must have known he would meet the ambassador.”

Prince Adelsberg, who, through his name and wealth, and his near kinship to the reigning house, took a first position in the brilliant little circle, had made a point of introducing his dearest friend to the duke, at Rodeck, and the stranger had impressed the duke so favorably that he had made special comment of him to the duchess.

This Rojanow, with his charming personality and the air of mystery which surrounded him, had only to exert himself to receive due attention on all sides.

And to-day he exercised all those fascinating qualities which he possessed in fullest measure.  His conversation sparkled with wit and animation, and his ardent temperament imparted to everything he said the stamp of originality, while united with this he showed himself a master of social courtesies.

It was no difficult matter for the ambassador to avoid the Roumanian; in a large house filled with guests, such avoidance is an easy matter, and neither of these two were anxious for a meeting.  Wallmoden turned now into an adjoining room, where the duke’s sister, the Princess Sophie, was holding a little court.  The princess had married the younger son of a princely house, but had been a widow now for years, and had lived since her widowhood at her brother’s court, where she was by no means a favorite.  The duchess was beloved for her gentleness and kind heartedness, by all who came in her way, but her elderly sister-in-law was disliked heartily for her arrogance and acerbity.  They all feared her sharp tongue, which never failed to bring to light disagreeable features or fancies, as the case might be, concerning those with whom she had to do.