For Cyril, also, this was a period not devoid of anxiety. In spite of all his precautions, the secret of Caerleon’s admiration for Nadia had become public property. The disclosure was mainly due to an American journalist who was supposed to be writing up the minor Courts of Europe for the benefit of aspiring New York belles, and who had hastened to Thracia as soon as he heard of the accession of a bachelor king, and taken up his quarters at the Hôtel Occidental. At the _table d’hôte_ he fell in with the O’Malachy family, and was immediately captivated by the cosmopolitan charms of Madame O’Malachy. From her he learnt all that there was to be learnt about the new sovereign, and not improbably a good deal more; and since nothing is sacred to the New Journalist, he worked up all that he heard into what he called “A Real Royal Romance,” for the columns of the paper he represented. The details caused great excitement among the heiresses of the Fifth Avenue, and filtered gradually back, through the medium of English and Parisian newspapers, to those of Bellaviste, where M. Drakovics, after reading them, made Cyril’s life a burden to him. “There has been frightful mismanagement somewhere!” he cried, charging into the secretary’s office on the very morning of the municipal ball, after Cyril had with difficulty restrained him hitherto from issuing edicts for the suppression of the offending newspapers and the expulsion of the American special correspondent. “This is the point to which your diplomacy has led us, milord. Here is the editor of the ‘Empire City Crier’ telegraphing to this Mr Hicks, ‘Cable immediately full particulars of Miss O’Malachy’s appearance, style of dress, taste in perfumes and bonbons. All the latest novelties here are named after her. Send any recent portraits.’ And here in Bellaviste we have the whole female population, from the wives of the Ministers to the shop-girls, crowding the street in front of the hotel to catch a glimpse of her, and insisting on dressing their hair like hers. It is intolerable!” “It is,” assented Cyril. “But I hope this state of affairs will come to an end to-day. If it does not, I shall perceive that in some way or other you have failed to adhere to our compact. Have confidence in me, and you will see that it will be all right. Only you must be absolutely passive at the ball to-night; and if you happen to miss my brother from the room at the same time as Miss O’Malachy, merely try to cover his absence as far as possible. If you don’t, I give you fair warning, I’ll advise her to marry him.” “Naturally I will keep to our agreement, milord,” said M. Drakovics, and went away unhappy. But Cyril was doomed not to be left in peace this morning. Another visitor was announced--this time the O’Malachy, who entered with his most military air, and with a look of repressed sadness on his face.