I spent the balance of the day arranging the affairs of my office, to the end that I could instantly sever all official relations with the American Government, and, so assume my new rank with the least possible embarrassment to Courtney.  He would, doubtless, find it unfortunate enough to have, as a Royal Archduke, one who but lately was his Military Attache, and familiar with much of his policy and purpose.  I said as much to him that evening, as we rode toward the Summer Palace, but he laughed it off.

“Embarrass me!” he exclaimed.  “I shall be the most envied of the Ambassadors; sought after by all the Court for a word to my friend, the new Archduke—­’that may be King hereafter.’”

“Don’t,” said I; “it’s likely to be quite bad enough without calling on Macbeth’s Witches.”

He leaned over and put his hand on my arm.  “Brace up, old chap,” he said; “there’s no boiling caldron and no witches.”

“There are troubles of sorts other than those the caldron brewed,” I remarked.

We turned a bend in the road.  “And witches of other sorts than those of Fores’ Heath,” he laughed.  “Behold!”

A hundred yards ahead, rode the Princess and Lady Helen Radnor.

“Here’s your opportunity, Courtney,” I observed.

He stared at me.

“To escort Lady Helen back to town.”  I explained.

“Thank you,” he said, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t be a bear,” said I; “most men would be glad enough for the chance.”

Then we reined aside and saluted.

“Will you join us?” said the Princess.

“We shall be delighted,” I said and swung over beside her.

“I don’t know what to do with Lady Helen,” she whispered hurriedly.

“Courtney will look after her,” I volunteered.

But she did not seem to hear.  “I came alone to meet you,” she went on, “and overtook her on the way.”

“You came to meet me?” I asked.

She nodded.  “I fear you will think me very forward, but I—­well, I wanted to know your decision.”

“Have you any doubt of it after the note—­and now?”

“Then you will accept?” she exclaimed, so loudly I raised my hand in warning.

“Yes,” said I.  “I shall accept—­are you glad?”

She plucked at her horse’s mane and glanced at me covertly; then she turned and smiled—­one of those overpowering smiles that had clung to me through the years.

“Yes, Armand, I am glad.  You are a—­dear.”

I reined over closer.  “Sometime,” I began——­

She stopped me.  “A dear cousin, I mean,” she cut in.

I went back to my side of the road; but I took another smile with me.

Then Lady Helen pressed forward.  “It is growing late, Your Royal
Highness.  I shall have to turn toward town,” she said.

I glanced at Courtney and he nodded that he would ride back with her.  And the Princess saw and understood; and would not have it so.