He was gentle and courteous, he was witty, and calm with that
well-bred consciousness which she adored in Englishmen, and which Sabine
had always said irritated her so.

It was all too exasperating because, with her unerring feminine
instinct, she divined that Sabine really did not love him at all. If she
had felt that she did, Moravia could have borne it better, but as it was
fate was too hard, and when a week went by the Princess began actually
to feel unhappy. They were continually surrounded with friends, and at
every meal had the kind of parties that once she had taken such delight
in. People were just beginning to come back to London, and they had
amusing play dinners and what not, and all Henry's family, an
intelligent and aristocratic band, had showered attention upon them. The
Princess had very seldom been in London before--and quite understood
that, but for the one particular cherry being out of reach which spoilt
all her joy, she could have been, to use one of Miss Van der Horn's pet
expressions, "terribly amused." Sabine, as the days wore on, and she was
under Henry's influence again, lost her feeling of unrest and grew
happy, and heard Michael's name without a tremor.

For Moravia dragged him into the conversation by saying how much she
would like to meet him after all she had heard of him in Paris.

"I had a letter from him this morning," Lord Fordyce said. "He is
shooting in Norfolk at this moment, but comes up to town on Friday
night. I will ask him to dine then, Princess, and you shall see what you
think of him. He really is a very charming fellow, for all his
recklessness--and I expect half those enchanting tales they told you of
him are overdrawn."

"Oh, I hope not!" Moravia laughed. "Do not disillusion me!"

Next day, Henry told them that he had wired to Mr. Arranstoun, who had
wired back that he was very sorry he could not dine with them on Friday
and go to a play, so Lord Fordyce promised the Princess he would find
another occasion to present his friend.

To him, Henry, this week in late October had been one of almost
unalloyed happiness--although he could have dispensed with the
continuous parties; still, he felt the Princess had to be amused, and
perhaps in a larger company he got more chance of speaking to his
beloved alone.

The position of a man nearly always affects women--and the great and
unmistakable prestige, which it was plain to be seen Henry possessed,
had added to his charm in