Naturally, the only thing to do on receiving such a letter was to hasten to secure the smartest possible vehicle for a long country drive. But Usk found to his dismay that not a single proprietor would let out a carriage of any description on the day mentioned save for use at the Carnival, and he was obliged to invite himself to tea at the villa instead. Félicia pouted when he told her of the change, and kept him for some time in anxiety as to whether she would allow him to come or not, averring that the ideal lover would have purchased a complete turn-out rather than disappoint his mistress of the drive on which she had set her heart. Usk pleaded that he had not the money, whereupon she retorted that an American would have made the purchase on credit, and resold the cart and horse at a profit immediately afterwards, thus combining business with pleasure. However, she was at last induced to promise to be at home, and Usk felt his self-respect restored. He would have Félicia to himself, without the intervention of Maimie, or Mrs van Zyl, or the King, and his uncle would be forced to see that his suspicions were unfounded. But when the Tuesday afternoon arrived, a note was brought to Usk as he sat in Nicholson’s room reading to the invalid, who had got as far as the Jardin Publique in the morning, and there discovered that his strength was at an end. This note was written with crimson ink upon rose-scented pink paper, and Usk found that it came from Mrs van Zyl. It was very short. “Dear Lord Usk,--Félicia is real sorry to disappoint you, but she thinks it her duty not to miss such an excellent opportunity of seeing the Carnival. I wish we could have you come with us, but our carriage is full.--Yours truly, Sadie van Zyl.” Usk crushed the note angrily in his hand when he had glanced at it. Of course it might mean no more than that Félicia was to view the Carnival procession from a window, but he felt almost certain that she would don fancy dress and join in all the gaiety that offered itself. And who was to occupy the fourth seat in the carriage? Only one answer suggested itself--King Michael. Usk fought against the conviction in vain. At last he stood up, and spoke hurriedly to Nicholson, who had been watching him curiously. “I’m off. I shall go and see what all the foolery is like, anyhow.” “Disappointed of your tea-party?” laughed the invalid, his worn face elfish, almost malicious. “But you can’t go down into the thick of the fun in those things. You’ll be mobbed. Look here, you wear the togs I ordered for myself--we’re about the same height. Ring for Jenkins, and he’ll bring them. I was going as the typical Englishman of French caricature. Now then, there you are. Don’t forget the whiskers, mind.”