dee of Spain.
And, though de la Mole says the King doesn't care for him, on account of
something or other connected with the Spanish-American War, he's bound to
become a _persona grata_ at Court if he marries a friend of the young
Queen; and, no doubt, that influences his choice."

"Thank Heaven, Lady Monica isn't Spanish."

"Ah, but Spain's the fashion now. And you haven't heard all my news. Henri
de la Mole says Lady Monica is asked to be a maid of honour for the young
Queen of Spain, the one Englishwoman she's to have in attendance."

"At least the wedding won't be till June. It's only the end of February
now. I've got more than three months."

"You haven't got one. Soon after the Princesses leave Biarritz, Lady
Vale-Avon and Lady Monica are going to visit the old Duchess of Carmona in
Spain."

"What, they're going to Seville?"

"If her house is there. I'm telling you what I've been told."

"The principal house of the Duke is in Seville, though he has a place near
Granada, and a flat in Madrid as a substitute for a fine house that was
burned down."

"Then Seville's where they'll be. Anyhow, they're to see the great show in
Holy Week there."

It was as if Dick had suddenly drenched me with iced water.

For a few seconds I did not speak. Then I said, "Are you trying to break
it to me that the match is arranged?"

"I told you Lady Monica wasn't engaged."

"And I told you I knew she wasn't. But that isn't to say the mother, the
woman 'as hard as iron and cold as steel,' hasn't planned her daughter's
future, a girl so young, and always kept under control."

"It looks as if the wind was setting in that quarter. A person of Lady
Vale-Avon's type would hardly accept such an invitation if she didn't
intend something to come of it."

"You're certain the invitation's been accepted?"

"Certain. Angele de la Mole has been with her brother in Spain, and Lady
Monica's been asking her advice about what to take and what to wear. The
Duke himself is in Paris, buying a new automobile; at least, so his mother
says; but other people say he's at Monte Carlo. Anyhow, he's expected here
in time for the ball."

"What ball?"

"Didn't I tell you? A masked ball the old Duchess is giving in honour of
Princess Ena. A grand affair it will be, says de la Mole. There's been
jealousy about the invitations, which have been carefully weeded."

"You and I'll accept," said I.

"We're not likely to have the chance."

"Sometimes a