"
"They are playing us false even now," said I. "I'm not going to
Valeria to decide a dinner bet."
"You're not. You're going as the representative of our Army to observe
the Valerian-Titian War."
"You're as good as a gypsy or a medium. When do I start?"
"Don't be rude, my dear chap, and forget that, under the wager, I'm to
be in the King's invitation--also the dance. We sail one week from
to-day."
"A bit late to secure accommodations, isn't it?"
"They are booked--on the Wilhelm der Grosse."
"You are playing a long shot--several long shots," I
laughed:--"War--Washington--me."
"Wrong," said Courtney. "I'm playing only War. I have the Secretary
and the Princess has you."
"You have the Secretary!"
"Days ago."
"The Devil!" I exclaimed, lifting my glass abstractedly.
"The Princess! you mean," said Courtney quickly, lifting his own and
clicking mine.
I looked at the picture again--and again it seemed to smile at me.
"The Princess!" I echoed; and we drank the toast. "We're a pair of old
fools," said I, when the glasses were emptied.
Courtney picked up the News and held the picture before me.
"Say that to her," he challenged.
"I can't be rude to her very face," I answered lamely.
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