Chauvelin ?" "I must ask you, Sir Percy," rejoined Chauvelin sternly, "to view this matter with becoming seriousness." "Seriousness is never becoming, sir," said Blakeney, politely smothering a slight yawn, "and it is vastly unbecoming in the presence of ladies." "Am I to understand then, Sir Percy," said Chauvelin, "that you are prepared to apologize to Mademoiselle Candeille for this insult offered to her by Lady Blakeney ?" Sir Percy again tried to smother that tiresome little yawn, which seemed most distressing, when he desired to be most polite.

Then he flicked off a grain of dust from his immaculate lace ruffle and buried his long, slender hands in the capacious pockets of his white satin breeches; finally he said with the most good-natured of smiles: "Sir, have you seen the latest fashion in cravats?
I would wish to draw your attention to the novel way in which we in England tie a Mechlin-edged bow." "Sir Percy," retorted Chauvelin firmly, "since you will not offer Mademoiselle Candeille the apology which she has the right to expect from you, are you prepared that you and I should cross swords like honourable gentlemen ?" Blakeney laughed his usual pleasant, somewhat shy laugh, shook his powerful frame and looked from his altitude of six feet three inches down on the small, sable-clad figure of ex-Ambassador Chauvelin.
"The question is, sir," he said slowly, "should we then be two honourable gentlemen crossing swords ?" "Sir Percy..." "Sir ?" Chauvelin, who for one moment had seemed ready to lose his temper, now made a sudden effort to resume a calm and easy attitude and said quietly: "Of course, if one of us is coward enough to shirk the contest..." He did not complete the sentence, but shrugged his shoulders expressive of contempt.

The other side of the curtained doorway a little crowd had gradually assembled, attracted hither by the loud and angry voices which came from that small boudoir.

Host and hostess had been missed from the reception rooms for some time, His Royal Highness, too, had not been seen for the quarter of an hour: like flies attracted by the light, one by one, or in small isolated groups, some of Lady Blakeney's quests had found their way to the room adjoining the royal presence.
As His Highness was standing in the doorway itself, no one could of course cross the threshold, but everyone could see into the room, and could take stock of the various actors in the little comedy.

They were witnessing a quarrel between the French envoy and Sir Percy Blakeney wherein the former was evidently in deadly earnest and the latter merely politely bored.