any right to expect, and then he went into such a passion! I think he must have expected me to regard his offer as a sort of command, to be obeyed without question, for he said that the Princess of Dardania and her daughter were the curse of Thracia, and that it would be my fault if the kingdom was ruined and he went to the bad. I wanted to box his ears, and at last I was really afraid I should, for he was just like a little boy who ought to be put in a corner, so I came away. Usk, do you think he was mad--or _drunk_?” Philippa ended the story of her wrongs in an awestruck whisper. “Don’t know, I am sure. I shall speak to him and see.” “No, Usk, you’d better not. You know father told us to be sure to consult Uncle Cyril at once if the slightest attempt was made to entangle us in politics while we were abroad, and I suppose this must be the sort of thing he meant.” “Would you like me to tell Count Mortimer when I see him to-night, Lady Phil?” asked Mansfield. A horrible suspicion had seized him that Cyril might have some hand in the affair. He hated himself for the thought, but his short intercourse with his employer had served to assure him that over-scrupulousness was not one of Cyril’s failings. If he was indeed in King Michael’s confidence, and Philippa discovered the fact, the enthusiastic love she cherished for her uncle would be destroyed for ever, and Mansfield made up his mind to spare her the pain of such a disillusionment. “Oh no,” she answered, flushing scarlet. “I could not let any one else tell him about such a horrid thing. I must do it myself.” “I would make as little of it as possible,” said Mansfield, with assumed unconcern. “I shall see him before you do, that’s all.” “Oh yes, please tell him, then. Perhaps he might say we ought not to have lost time. But you won’t leave me alone all afternoon, Usk, will you? or if Usk is called away, you’ll stay with me, won’t you, Mr Mansfield?”