Dehra smiled slyly.  “It’s the same gown she wore at the Birthday Ball.”

I bit my lip—­then, suddenly, I got very brave.

“Tell me,” I said.  “How did you know I kissed her, that night?”

“I saw it.”

“The Dev—!  Oh!” I exclaimed.  I was brave no longer.  I got interested in the opera.  Presently, I ventured to glance at Dehra—­she was laughing behind her fan.  Then I ventured again.

“I hope,” said I, “I did it nicely.”

“Most artistically, my dear Armand.  Escamillo, yonder, could not do it more cleverly.”

I winced.  It is not especially flattering to an Archduke to be classed with a toreador—­and Carmen’s toreador, least of all.  Yet, I recognized the justice of the punishment.  Bravery had failed twice; it was time to be humble.

“I am sorry, Dehra,” I said.

“Of course you are, sir, very sorry—­that I saw you.—­And so was I,” she added.

“Was?” I echoed.

“It gave me un mauvais quart d’heure.”

“No longer than that?” tasked.

“No; it lasted only until I had you to myself on the terrace, a little later.”

“And then?” I queried.

“Then?  Then I was no longer jealous of the Lady Helen.  Your eyes told me there was no need.”

“There never has been anyone but you, my darling,” I whispered.

“And never will be, Armand?” she asked.

“Please God, never,” I said; and, forgetting where we were, I made as though to take her hand.

“Not now,” she smiled.  “Wait until after the Opera.”

“It will be a longer wait than that,” I said regretfully.  “I have told Courtney I would invite the Radnors and him to take supper with me on the Hanging Garden, to-night.”

“Why don’t you say ’take supper with us’?”

“You mean it, Dehra?” I asked in surprise.  “You have always refused, hitherto; and I have asked so often.”

She smiled.  “Hitherto was different from now,” she said.

“Thank God for the now,” I added.

“We might bid them here for the last act,” she suggested.

“I have presumed to hint as much to Courtney,” I said; and told her how it had all come about in my talk with him that morning.

“Delightful!” she exclaimed.  “And we will have a jolly party on the Garden—­and let us be just like ordinary folk and have a public table—­only, a little apart, of course.”

“It shall be as you want,” I said, and dispatched Major Moore to the Radnor Box with the invitation.

When he returned, I stepped into the corridor and gave him explicit instructions as to the supper.  I had encouraged both him and Bernheim to intimate when I was about to make an Archducal faux pas, and I saw he did not approve of the public table.  But I gave no heed.  I knew perfectly well it was violating official etiquette for the Princess to appear there at such an hour; but it was her first request since—­well, since what had occurred a few minutes before—­and I was determined to gratify her.  And Moore, being a good courtier, and knowing I had observed his warning, made no further protest, but saluted and departed on his mission.