“Well, I guess it’ll maybe interest him to know what the American girl thinks about him.” “Don’t see how you’re going to have him feel it, any way. Say, Fay, Usk is real devoted, isn’t he? I’m glad you’ve taken him instead of the King now I’ve seen him, don’t you think! He’s solid good right through. He won’t ever have you find out anything new and unpleasant about him. Every day of his life he’ll come to meet you mornings with a flower, just as his father does to Lady Caerleon, and he’ll like nothing better evenings than sit alone with you and read the ‘Times’ out loud.” “Guess I’ll fix things differently to that.” “You’d better not. His way will save you a pretty good deal of trouble. He’ll like you to be the same all the time, just as he is. And so’s you’re just decently civil to him, he’ll never be ugly. It’s only with a man like the Baron you need to be smart, for you lose him if he’s away out of your sight a moment.” “Well, I incline to think the Baron will need to be smart this next week.” In all probability the Baron was of the same opinion before the week was over. He had come prepared to take the lead in the general conversation, even if he did not monopolise it, and nothing was further from his thoughts than that this little nobody of an American, whom the Caerleons had managed to pick up for Usk on account of her money, should take it upon herself to dispute his right. Young as he was, King Michael had already ruled so long that it seemed to him only natural to be the autocrat of any table at which he sat, and it was whispered that his meetings with other monarchs were few and far between, and also extremely short, by reason of this genial habit of mind. It was a tremendous shock to find himself called upon for explanations, laughed at for his choice of words, even contradicted, and all by a radiant being who flashed provoking glances at him from magnificent eyes, and having annihilated him, turned with irritating nonchalance to engage Usk in a low-toned conversation punctuated with soft looks.