More speeches from different representatives of the people followed; but at last the King was able to return to the palace, and to seek his brother in the room which M. Drakovics had recommended should be allotted to him for the performance of his duties as Caerleon’s secretary. Cyril was testing the security of the cupboards which lined the panelled walls, and he was so resolutely bent on expatiating on the business-like appearance of his surroundings that it was some time before Caerleon could put the question he was anxious to ask. “Well, did you see her?” “Oh, Miss O’Malachy?” asked Cyril, raising his eyebrows. “Yes, I saw her. I can’t say that she impressed me favourably. She never does, somehow.” “Happily it’s not necessary that she should,” returned Caerleon, sharply. “When am I to see her?” “I have been thinking about that, and I can’t find an opportunity earlier than that ball which the municipality are to give next week.” “But how am I to speak to her when we are dancing?” “You don’t imagine she would dance? You must sit out, of course. This is how we shall have to work it. I will ask her to sit out with me, and take her into the conservatory, or some place of that kind, where you will be waiting. Then I’ll keep guard until you have said what you want to say (I hope and trust it won’t take long), and I will convoy her back to her mother.” “I think I am capable of doing that,” said Caerleon. “Yes, if she accepts you; but I don’t for a moment think she will. You see what I mean, old man?--it seems rather a nasty thing to say--but I don’t believe she cares for you sufficiently. She’s as proud as Lucifer, and people are bound to say that she married you for the sake of the crown. Would she be able to stand it?” “I believe she is sensible enough not to care what people say if she once sees that it is right to marry me. But you never have understood her. Look here, Cyril; why should we put it off so long? Let us give a ball ourselves one evening this week.” “How can we, when you haven’t a lady at the head of affairs? You might let yourself in for most horrible awkwardness. I don’t even know whether it would be proper for Madame O’Malachy to bring her daughter. You can’t go compromising yourself in the eyes of Europe in this way. Don’t think of giving balls until you are married, unless you like to get Mrs Sadleir out from home, and introduce her as your aunt and the natural head of your establishment.” “I’m certain she would never come,” said Caerleon, gloomily. “But after all,” and his face brightened, “perhaps it is as well to wait for a week. If I can tell Nadia that I have come to some conclusion on the question of initiating temperance legislation, it may please her, so I will set to work at once. I am going to send to England for some books I want. I don’t know whether there is anything you would like me to order for you at the same time?”