"Off with you to dress, young woman. It's
past seven, and we must be there early. I still have the wine to order."
The dinner party was in its way a complete success. Prince Karschoff was
there, benign and distinguished; Chalmers and one or two other young men
from the American Embassy. There was a sprinkling of Maggie's girl
friends, a leaven of the older world in Nigel's few intimates,--and
Naida, very pale but more beautiful than ever in a white velvet gown,
her hair brushed straight back, and with no jewellery save one long rope
of pearls. Nigel who in his capacity as host had found little time for
personal conversation during the service of dinner, deliberately led her
a little apart when they passed out into the lounge for coffee and to
watch the dancing.
"My duties are over for a time," he said. "Do you realise that I have
not had a word with you alone since our luncheon at Ciro's?"
"We have all been a little engrossed, have we not?" she murmured. "I
hope that you are satisfied with the way things have turned out."
"Nothing shall induce me to talk politics or empire-saving to-night," he
declared, with a smile. "I have other things to say."
"Tell me why you asked us all to dine so suddenly," she enquired. "I do
not know whether it is my fancy, but there seems to be an air of
celebration about. Is there any announcement to be made?"
He shook his head.
"None. The party was just a whim of Maggie's."
They both looked across towards the ballroom, where she was dancing with
Chalmers.
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