“We are losing time in these irrelevant recriminations, Count,” said the King, recovering himself. “I wish you to undertake the conduct of this affair. You will return to office, of course--I give you _carte blanche_ with regard to the wretched crew of incapables at present in power--but I do not know whether you will prefer to rid me of the Princess of Dardania and her daughter before setting to work. I leave the method to you--you are an old enemy of her Royal Highness, I believe?--and I don’t stipulate for any special tenderness towards either of them. Afterwards you will take the proper steps to obtain Lady Philippa’s hand for me. I believe I alarmed the young lady yesterday by avowing my sentiments too openly; no doubt she thought such warmth incorrect in view of Princess Lida’s presence in the company; but you will do everything in due form. You hesitate? You think I am making a cat’s paw of you?” A grim smile crossed Cyril’s face. “I am willing to repeat before witnesses the orders I have given you, if you will call in Roburoff and your secretary.” “Quite unnecessary.” Cyril had regained his usual calm. “You broke the heart of the woman who gave up everything for you, and now you want to throw away the toy for the sake of which you did it. But that you won’t do. I don’t pose as a moralist, but I have some sense of the fitness of things. At the rate you are going, it won’t be long before you are unfit to speak to a decent woman, and you expect me to give you my niece! Why, I should have scruples about marrying you to Princess Lida, if I had any responsibility in the matter, but her mother and you settled that between you, and you shall stick to it. If I am not mistaken, she will turn out a match for you. But at any rate, for your mother’s sake, I will see that her wishes on the subject are carried out.” The fierce irony of the tone roused the King to something very like frenzy. “If I don’t marry your niece, I’ll make you sorry that you refused her to me,” he muttered, his lips twitching and his fingers picking nervously at his chin. “The first word you say against her will be the signal for your own destruction,” said Cyril coldly. “I am not in the habit of speaking idly, and I warn you that you are still on the throne only because I have not cared to dethrone you. But if you are good enough to furnish me with a reason for taking action----” “I don’t revenge myself upon women,” snarled the King, forgetting his threat of the moment before. “Ah, you are young yet,” replied Cyril pleasantly. “Permit me to attend your Majesty to the door.”