His hands gripped her shoulders.  She was conscious that he was looking past her, and that there was horror in his eyes.  The words died away on her lips.  She, too, turned her head.  The door of the sitting room had been opened from outside.  Lord Maltenby was standing there in his dressing gown, his hand stretched out behind him as though to keep some one from following him.

“Julian,” he demanded sternly, “what is the meaning of this?”

For a moment Julian was speechless, bereft of words, or sense of movement.  Catherine still knelt there, trembling.  Then Lord Maltenby was pushed unceremoniously to one side.  It was the Princess who entered.

“Catherine!” she screamed.  “Catherine!”

The girl rose slowly to her feet.  The Princess was leaning on the back of a chair, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and sobbing hysterically.  Lord Shervinton’s voice was heard outside.

“What the devil is all this commotion?” he demanded.

He, too, crossed the threshold and remained transfixed.  The Earl closed the door firmly and stood with his back against it.

“Come,” he said, “we will have no more spectators to this disgraceful scene.  Julian, kindly remember you are not in your bachelor apartments.  You are in the house over which your mother presides.  Have you any reason to offer, or excuse to urge, why I should not ask this young woman to leave at daybreak?”

“I have no excuse, sir,” Julian answered, “I certainly have a reason.”

“Name it?”

“Because you would be putting an affront upon the lady who has promised to become my wife.  I am quite aware that her presence in my sitting room is unusual, but under the circumstances I do not feel called upon to offer a general explanation.  I shall say nothing beyond the fact that a single censorious remark will be considered by me as an insult to my affianced wife.”

The Princess abandoned her chorus of mournful sounds and dried her eyes.  Lord Waltenby was speechless.

“But why all this mystery?” the Princess asked pitifully.  “It is a great event, this.  Why did you not tell me, Catherine, when you came to my room?”

“There has been some little misunderstanding,” Julian explained.  “It is now removed.  It brought us,” he added, “very near tragedy.  After what I have told you, I beg whatever may seem unusual to you in this visit with which Catherine has honoured me will be forgotten.”

Lord Maltenby drew a little breath of relief.  Fortunately, he missed that slight note of theatricality in Julian’s demeanour which might have left the situation still dubious.

“Very well, then, Julian,” he decided, “there is nothing more to be said upon the matter.  Miss Abbeway, you will allow me to escort you to your room.  Such further explanations as you may choose to offer us can be very well left now until the morning.”