"No," said she. "Papa never condescends to dance. He is probably playing ecarté at this moment at his club. I need not describe to you the pleasure it gave him to make your acquaintance this afternoon."
I glanced at her to see whether she were joking, but her face was as serious as even she could wish. Naturally, I expressed my delight at what she had told me, but I could not help believing that she had derived a wrong impression from her father's compliments. The Prince of Lilienhöhe had been such a determined foe of my family for so many years, that I could not see how making my acquaintance could possibly afford him pleasure. However, I had no time to give to the subject then, for the band was playing the introduction to the next waltz, and it was time to return to the ball-room. A few steps were sufficient to show me that the Princess, like all Pannonians, was an excellent dancer. To the melody of one of Strauss' waltzes I steered her through the crowd. The fragrance of her hair was intoxicating, and for some reason, I cannot explain what, it carried me back to the day, so many years ago, when she had taken my hand in hers, and had cemented our friendship with the three magic words, "I like you." How little we had dreamed then of the place where we should next meet, and under what circumstances it would be brought about! In those days the Ramonyi dynasty had seemed as firmly seated upon the throne as that of any other ruling family in Europe. Now we were in exile, and our country was given over to the tender mercies of the populace.
"Are you tired?" I inquired, when we had made the circuit of the room three or four times.
"Not in the least," she answered. "I am never tired of waltzing, and, if I may say so, you dance beautifully."
"I am afraid it is my only accomplishment," I replied.
"I shall hope to be a better judge of that later," she retorted. "You must remember that, so far, you have told me more concerning your brother than yourself. Are you always so enthusiastic about him and so reticent concerning yourself?"
"Really! In that case I shall be quite anxious to see this Admirable Crichton. Does he never come to town?"
"Very seldom," I replied. "He is devoted to his profession."