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"Ah, I know I did! It was, I admit, too bad of me, Mr Waldron. But I do hope even now you've found me out in all those white lies that it will make no difference to our friends.h.i.+p."
"Why, not in the least," he declared. "I am greatly honoured by Your Royal Highness's friends.h.i.+p."
"No, no," she cried impatiently, "not Highness to you, Mr Waldron.
Lola--still Lola, please."
"Very well," laughed the man. "But surely that will sound too familiar from one in my station?"
"When we are alone, I mean. Of course in Society, or at Court I may be Her Royal Highness the Principessa Luisa Anna Romana Elisabetta Marie Giovanna di Savoia--and half a dozen other names and t.i.tles if you like.
They really don't trouble me," and she carelessly cast her well-worn sealskin m.u.f.f upon the couch near her.
"Ah," he sighed, "I fear you are a sad breaker of the conventionalities.
Before I knew that you were my little friend of the Nile I had heard several stories of your various little escapades."
"Oh yes," she cried quickly. "No doubt you've been told some awful tales about my doings--stories which get about Rome, and everyone exaggerates them as they pa.s.s from mouth to mouth. My worst offence, I believe, is because I entered for a motor-cycle race and won it. Well, haven't your girls in England won similar races?"
"True, but what a shop-a.s.sistant may do is forbidden to a princess," was his reproof.
"Ah, that's just it?" she exclaimed in protest. "Merely because I happen to be born a princess I'm supposed to put on a veneer of Court manners, and observe Court etiquette day in and day out, until it all bores me stiff--as you say in English. Just because I try and behave like other girls, obtain my freedom when I can, and enjoy myself with open-air pursuits, I am held in horror by Their Majesties, and the people declare that I am a disgrace to our Royal House."
"No--not a disgrace, Princess."
"Lola, please," she said, correcting him.
"Lola then--if you will have it so," he said. "The people secretly admire you for your courage in breaking the steel bonds of Court etiquette; nevertheless remember that such escapades as yours must lead you into danger--grave personal danger. You are a girl, and remember also that there are some blackguards about who, knowing your active and daring temperament, may entrap you and then levy blackmail upon you."
Her beautiful face instantly fell. He saw that she grew paler and more thoughtful. Her lips twitched slightly.
"You think so," she said slowly, her voice so changed that he wondered.
"You think that someone might really attempt to levy blackmail upon me-- eh?"
"Certainly. And in that lies the very serious peril to which you must be exposed, if you continue to disregard the conventionalities which surround you as a daughter of a Royal House."
"You are rather hard upon me, Mr Waldron," she said in a low voice, quite unusual to her.
"Not in the least. Remember I am your friend. If at any time I can serve you in any way you have only to come to me, and I will exert every effort on your behalf," he said, speaking very earnestly. "But I would beg of you to exercise the greatest discretion. Why continue to annoy Their Majesties by this conduct which must sooner or later bring unpleasantness, and perhaps trouble, upon you?"
"Trouble!" she echoed, her great dark eyes fixed upon him. "Trouble!
It has already brought trouble upon me. That is why I came here to-night to see you--to tell you--to confess--and to ask your help as my good, kind friend?"
CHAPTER TWELVE.
THE KING'S CONFIDENCES.
At that moment there was a discreet tap at the door and Peters entered, saying:
"An aide-de-camp of His Majesty wishes to see you on a matter of great importance, sir."
For a second Waldron stood confused.
"Oh! he must not find me here," whispered the Princess, starting up in quick alarm. "Where can I go?"
"In this room," the diplomat replied quickly, opening a door which led to his small dining-room. He switched on the light, and she pa.s.sed within, closing the door noiselessly. It was all done in a few seconds, and then Hubert said in his natural voice:
"Oh, show him in."
Next moment a tall, good-looking, dark-moustached officer, wearing his grey military cloak, entered jauntily, saying in Italian with a merry twinkle in his eyes as he grasped the other's hand:
"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, friend Waldron--especially when you have a lady visitor."
"Lady visitor! What do you mean?" he asked, for Count Guicciolo was an old friend of many years.
"Well, your man told me that you could not be disturbed, so I naturally formed my own conclusions," replied the aide-de-camp airily, pointing to the m.u.f.f. "But I apologise. Here is a message for you from His Majesty. I was to deliver it into your hands," and from beneath his cloak he produced a letter which upon the flap bore the neat royal cipher of the House of Savoy.
In surprise the diplomat broke the seal and read the following formal words:
"_His Majesty the King commands to private audience the Honourable Hubert Waldron, M.V.O., this evening and immediately_," followed by the date.
Hubert noticed the neat handwriting. It had been penned by His Majesty King Umberto himself.
"Well!" he asked the Count.
"I was sent to bring you at once to the Palace, my friend," replied the other.
"What is amiss? Surely it is strange that I should receive a command at this hour!"
"Yes. But His Majesty works very late sometimes."
"Is anything seriously wrong?"
"Not that I am aware of. I was simply summoned to the private cabinet, and His Majesty gave me that letter, and ordered me to find you at once," and he took a cigarette from the silver box which Waldron handed him, and holding it in his white-gloved hand slowly lit it.
"Will you come with me now?" he asked as he cast away the match. "I'm awfully sorry to disturb you," he added with a laugh. "But it is His Majesty's orders."
"Oh, don't apologise," was the diplomat's reply. He was annoyed, for he knew what a sad gossip was Guicciolo, and that on the morrow half Rome would know that a young lady had been found in his rooms. At all hazards her ident.i.ty must be concealed. Therefore, making an excuse to obtain his coat, Waldron pa.s.sed into the dining-room where the Princess was standing in anxiety, whispered to her an explanation how he would have to leave unceremoniously and urging her to leave five minutes later.
"We will resume our conversation to-morrow," he added. "But not here.
It is far too dangerous."
"Where then?" she asked eagerly in a low whisper. "I will meet you anywhere after dark." He reflected a second. Then said:
"Do you know Bucci's little restaurant in the Piazza delle Coppelle?"
"Yes, I know. Quite a quiet little place. I will never be recognised there."
"Well, at half-past eight. The dinner will be over then, and the place will be empty."
"Agreed. _Addio_," she said, and they grasped hands quickly. Then he put on his overcoat, and went out with the Count, while five minutes later Peters, ignorant of her ident.i.ty, showed the Princess out, and accompanied her downstairs to the door.