When the Lancers came to an end Drusilla returned, obsequiously attended by the young dragoon, and followed by General Lyon and all the members of her party. Prince Ernest started up from the sofa and with respectful tenderness took Drusilla’s hand and placed her in her seat, and remained standing beside her. “My dear, it is four o’clock, and you look very tired-had we not better go?” inquired General Lyon, speaking in a low tone to Drusilla. “Just as you and Anna please, dear uncle. As for myself, I am quite ready,” she replied. “So am I,” said Mrs Hammond. “Come then,” said the General, offering his arm to Drusilla. “Pardon me, sir, if you please. I will have the honor to attend Madam!” exclaimed Prince Ernest. With a bow and a queer smile the General gave way. And the prince bending before the beauty, took her hand and drew her arm within his own and led her on. And Alexander from his covert saw all this; and breathing maledictions, followed them, first to the presence of the ambassador and ambassadress, before whom they paused to make their adieux, then to the cloak room, where he saw Prince Ernest take Drusilla’s bouquet and hold it with one hand, while with the other hand he carefully wrapped her in her mantle; then he followed them down-stairs to the hall, where they all had to stop and wait some time before their carriage could come up—and finally to the sidewalk, where he saw Prince Ernest carefully place Drusilla in her carriage, and tenderly lift her hand to his lips as he bade her good-night. Saw him then gaze upon the faded bouquet that he had taken from the beauty, who had probably forgotten to reclaim it—gaze upon it, press it to his lips, and place it, as some priceless treasure, in the breast of his coat. That last act of folly filled up the measure of the prince’s offences. It maddened Alexander. Henceforth he was no more responsible for his actions than a lunatic. Going up to Prince Ernest, he clapped him smartly upon the shoulder. The prince whirled around with an involuntary expression of surprise and anger. “You, sir, I want a word with you!” exclaimed Alexander, breathing hard between his set teeth. “At your pleasure, sare, perhaps! But, first, who may you be?” replied his highness, with cool hauteur. “There is my card, sir! I would be glad to have yours?” “‘Baron Killcrichtoun?’ I do not know the name or title. Well, Baron, what is your will with me?” “First, sir, that bouquet, which you have had the insolence to keep! Secondly, sir, satisfaction for the insults you have offered to a lady who is near and dear to me?” “INSULTS!” exclaimed the excitable Austrian, jumping off his feet. “Insults! sare, I never offer insults to a lady in my life! Sare, you speak von untruth! Sare, you speak von large lie! Sare, it is I, myself, I, who will have von grand satisfaction!” “So you shall! but first give me that bouquet!”