“Well,” said he, “I see you’ve made your decision; which gets it, Valeria or America?”

“Behold a prospective Archduke!” said I.

He arose and, hand over heart, bowed low.  “I salute Your Royal Highness!” he said.

“Nonsense!” I exclaimed, “don’t be ridiculous.”

“I am quite serious.  It’s an unusual pleasure to have one worth saluting.”

I waved the compliment aside.  “If it is to terminate my old friendships or bring formality into private intercourse I shall remain American,” I declared.

The diplomat smiled.  “Don’t you see it all rests with yourself?  You can be as formal or as familiar as you please.”

“I can revise my List of Friends, so to speak—­drop those I don’t care for and enter such new ones as I wish?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, that much of the new order will be quite to my liking,” said I, and turned to my mail.

The letters lay face downward, of course, and I opened them in their order without bothering to examine the superscription.  Presently, I came upon one sealed with a blurred dab of green wax.  Rather curious, I turned it over; it was unstamped and was marked:  “Personal and Important.”  I did not know the hand-writing; but, then, Lady Helen Radnor’s was the only one in all Dornlitz I could have known.

“Here,” said I to Courtney, “is a letter marked ’Personal and Important’; what is it; an invitation to contribute to the professionally destitute?”

“More likely an invitation to some gambling den.”

I tossed it over.  “Take a look at it and guess again,” I said.

He glanced languidly at the envelope; then picked it up quickly and scrutinized it sharply.

“We both are wrong,” he said, and he motioned for the servant to return it to me.

I knew he had recognized the writing and that it called for more respect than a careless fling across the table.  I broke the seal and drew out the letter.  It bore the Royal Arms over the word “Dornlitz.”  Beneath, it read: 

“MY DEAR COUSIN: 

“His Majesty has told me of the meeting in the Library this morning.  I know I have no right to meddle—­but, won’t you please accept and come back to your own?  The King wants you.  We shall welcome you with all our hearts.  Come, Armand!

“DEHRA.”

I read it slowly a second time—­and then a third time—­wondering, the while, whether I should show it to Courtney.

“You know who wrote this?” I asked.

“I know who wrote the address.”

“Then know the note, also,” said I, and read it to him.

His face was quite expressionless as I read; but, at the end, he gave the faintest nod of approval.  “If that does not hold you to the task, you are——­” he stopped.  “God, Sir!  You ought to be proud to be her cousin,” he ended.