“You will not refuse to allow me a share in your happiness, mother? My sole desire is to stand beside you on this auspicious occasion, and do honour to your choice. Count, I will tell you frankly that there is no man I would welcome into my family more heartily than yourself.” “No reason whatever to doubt that statement!” thought Cyril grimly, while the Queen, her eyes full of tears, raised her son and kissed him as he stooped to kiss her hand. “This is the crowning point of my happiness, little son,” she murmured, employing the old tender diminutive. “You have stolen a march upon me, mother,” pursued the King, quite at his ease. “I hoped to have the honour of presenting the Lady Philippa to you myself, but you have been before me.” Philippa crimsoned with indignation as she yielded her finger-tips unwillingly to be kissed. “My friend Usk, too! And these--I have no need to ask--these must be the honoured parents of the Lady Philippa.” Having saluted Lord and Lady Caerleon with marked distinction, King Michael took a chair, and signed affably to the rest to be seated. “I must apologise for appearing in this dress,” he said, looking at his mother, but including Philippa, as he indicated the undress naval uniform he was wearing, “but I have had no opportunity of changing my clothes. I have made no attempt to secure rooms at a hotel, as I hoped my mother might be able to find a corner for me here. I have only two or three people with me--that is all I could bring, since I came as far as Beyrout on a ship of war.” This explanation was ample for those who knew that the Thracian sea-going navy consisted of a single gunboat of moderate size, and the Queen summoned M. Stefanovics and gave him the necessary directions. The King continued to converse with the greatest affability, “patronising the whole show,” as Usk complained to Mansfield afterwards, but the pleasantness of the evening had vanished with his entrance. That the Queen felt this she showed when she rose as the signal for her guests to depart. She had meant this family party to be free from the trammels of Court etiquette, but how could she carry out her intention when her son made evident in every word and action the intense condescension with which he was prepared to behave towards her new relations? CHAPTER XXII. THE HISTORY OF AN EVENING. “I did not expect to see you here to-night, Mr Mansfield.” “I had no idea of coming, madame, but his Excellency insisted upon it. M. Paschics is here too.” “Do you know whether Prince Ramon of Arragon has visited Count Mortimer yet?” “Yes, madame, this afternoon.” “You don’t happen to have heard what he thought of his health?” “No, madame, I did not like to ask; but his Excellency seemed quite cheerful this evening. When I left the house, he was busy with his servant, looking over his things, I think.”