I
turned half aside and glanced around the table. Every face but three
showed blank amazement. Of those three, the Princess's wore a tolerant
smile; Lotzen's a frown; but Courtney's was set in almost a sneer.
And, at it, I marvelled. Later, I understood; he had, by some queer
intuition, guessed what was to follow.
When I came back to Mrs. Spencer her expression had changed. The
incredulous look was gone; bright anger flamed, instead.
"Do you still persist, sir, that you do not know my rightful name?" she
demanded.
From my previous acquaintance with the lady I knew she was working
herself into a passion; though, why, I could not imagine.
"My dear Madame," I said, "why such pother over such a trifle? If your
name be, no longer, Madeline Spencer, tell me what it is. I shall be
profoundly glad to call you by it--or any name than Spencer," I added.
She felt the thrust and her eyes answered it. Then, suddenly, she
turned and faced those at the table.
"Your pardon," she said, speaking straight at Lord Radnor, "will you
tell me if this man here"--waving her hand toward me--"is Major Armand
Dalberg?"
Lord Radnor bowed. "That gentleman is His Royal Highness the Grand
Duke Armand of Valeria," he said.
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