She's a dashed fine-looking woman, your mother--a dashed fine-
looking woman! Be patient with her, boy."
Poor Dad! Blakely and I were resolved that he should never have that
little talk he spoke of with so much confidence. Ideals are awfully
in the way sometimes, but nobody with a speck of decency can bear to
stand by and see them destroyed. Dad's deals had to be preserved at
any price.
Chapter Eight
And so another two weeks passed. Then, one day, a comet of amazing
brilliancy shot suddenly into our social orbit, and things happened.
That this interesting stellar phenomenon was a Russian grand duke, a
nephew of the Czar, but added to the piquancy of the situation.
The hotel was all in a flutter; the manager was beside himself with
joy; bell-boys danced jig steps in the corridors; chambermaids went
about with a distracted air--and all because the grand duke,
Alexander Melovich, was to arrive on the morrow. It was an epoch-
making event. It was better than a circus, for it was free. Copies
of the Almanach de Gotha appeared, as if by magic. Everybody was
interested. Everybody was charmed, until--
The rumor flew rapidly along the verandas. It was denied by the head
waiter, it was confirmed by the chief clerk; it was referred to the
manager himself and again confirmed.
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