This, he realized, must have been the outcome of the old Duke's thoughtfulness. The Duke alone could have given the orders which had made this possible. That the Duke should have found time to attend to so trivial a matter, time to give orders to a valet to pack a bag, when he was giving orders to maintain a throne--it was almost ludicrous! And yet, it was like the Duke. It was like the Duke, to remind him, to assure him, in this way, that he, the King, was of importance, that he was being served, well served, in small matters, as well as in great. Something of the sort must have been in the old Duke's mind, when he gave the orders, which had provided him, the King, with a dress shirt--and studs!--now, when he wanted them-- No doubt, some member of the palace household staff, Smith perhaps, had been sent down, specially, from the palace, with these things, during the afternoon. Like the police, and the military, he would have been given orders to remain invisible. That was as it should be. A valet would have been out of place in Paradise. Alfred, the sailor, would be entitled to a servant, of course. But he would hardly accompany him on--"a short leave of absence"-- The King was glad to change. He was glad to think, as he dressed leisurely, that he would appear suitably clad at Judith's table. There is a stimulation in clothes which he was young enough to feel. He was still struggling with his dress tie, when the dinner gong sounded. CHAPTER XV A small, panelled room, on the left of the hall, and on the west side of the house, the dining room was bright with the light of the setting sun, as the King entered. Late as he was himself, he was surprised to find that only Judith was there to receive him. She was standing at the window doors, which opened out of the room onto the verandah, gazing at the flaming glory of the sunset sky. Wearing a silver gown, that had a metallic glitter, which gave her something of a barbaric splendour, she seemed, at the moment, almost a stranger to the King. But she turned to welcome him with her usual friendly little nod, and smile. "It will be no use our waiting for Uncle Bond," she announced. "He may be here, in a minute or two. Or he may not come for half an hour, or more. 'Cynthia' may have got a firm grip on him, you see. Uncle Bond, or perhaps I ought to say 'Cynthia,' hates being interrupted for meals. I never wait for him." Sitting down at the foot of the dinner table, as she spoke, she waved the King into his place, on her right, facing the open window doors, and the view of the garden, and of the wooded landscape beyond, which they framed. "I hope 'Cynthia' _has_ got a firm grip on Uncle Bond," she went on. "I shall have you all to myself, then. You ought to have said that, you know. But you never make pretty speeches. That is why I said it for you." The King sat down at the dinner table, and picked up his napkin, mechanically. "Are pretty speeches allowed--between us?" he asked.