Alexandra had decided not to enter in Ranata’s wake. Having none of that unwisdom which permits a wound to self-love that a grievance may be nursed afterwards, nor yet affinity for the rôle of the humble follower, she was always careful not to be placed in any position by her exalted friend that might rankle too late in her brain. She had, therefore, entered the room early, under the chaperonage of Princess Nadasdy, and Zrinyi, as ever, hovered close. He was a beautiful object in his thick gold embroideries, his plum-colored velvet cloak, his buttons and his chains; and Alexandra, in the dull-rose costume with its old-lace veil and apron, lent her by the ambitious Zápolya, excited his approval to such a degree that once more he poured his impassioned avowal into her ears, and begged her to accept the chests of his grandmother as well as himself. “Are they at your castle in the Alps?” asked Alexandra. “How can I decide such a question when I do not yet know whether that castle is sufficiently romantic to meet my most exacting taste? Like all Americans, Count, I am a connoisseur in castles; and how can I be sure that your grandmother’s clothes will fit? Besides, I am a monomaniac on the subject of microbes.” Zrinyi, if he did not yet understand her, was by this time sufficiently seasoned to accept her sallies with neither sulks nor despair. Perceiving that she was in a frivolous mood he changed the subject. “Are you not glad to be here to-night?” he demanded. “To play a part? Who knows what may be the result of the extraordinary impression the Princess has made? I feel that to-night she will either make a--a--portentous impression or disillusionize us altogether.” “Great moment in the history of Hungary?” asked Alexandra mischievously. The Count flushed, but laughed. “Yes,” he said defiantly. “I seldom have presentiments, but when I do--I shall not give you another chance to laugh at me. I do not see Mr. Abbott. Was he not to come with Prince Nadasdy? I hope nothing has happened to our king of to-night. He was not very sober last evening at the club. I have not seen him to-day, and hoped he was in bed building himself up for the ordeal.” “I have not seen my brother since yesterday--he sent word this morning he could not come to tea; but I know of no one so well able to take care of himself. Still I am surprised, for he should be here before the Princess enters. Even he would hardly dare to arrive afterwards. Have you seen him?”