The Baron arrived, gallantly swept off his cap and bowed, and suddenly
conscious of an indefinable hostility in the attitudes of the silent
quartet, stared from one to the other with some pardonable astonishment.
"Tregar!" shouted the Prince hotly, "you will account to me for this
officious espionage."
The Baron stroked his beard.
"One may pay his respects to Miss Westfall?" he begged with gentle
sarcasm. "It is a sufficiently popular epidemic, I should say, to
claim even me. Besides," he added dryly, "in reality I have come in
answer to a letter of Poynter's. It has interested me exceedingly to
find you on the road ahead of me."
"Baron Tregar," said Diane warmly, "you are very welcome, I assure you.
Mr. Poynter has been pleased to inject certain elements of melodrama
into his chance intrusion. Otherwise you would not find us staring at
each other in this exceedingly ridiculous manner!"
"Hum!" said the Baron blandly and glanced with interest at the
undisturbed countenance of Mr. Poynter.
"A mere matter of justice and belated frankness to Miss Westfall!" said
Philip quietly. "I must respectfully beg Prince Ronador to disclose to
her the original motive of his singular and highly romantic courtship.
I bear an urgent message of similar import from one who has had the
distinction of playing--imperial chess!"
They were curious words but not so curious in substance as in effect.
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