"Ah! an American," said Captain Grayrigg. "Then I expect this sort of thing strikes you as quite ridiculous."
"Why, no, Colonel. Between ourselves I may as well tell you I'm over here myself on a job not unconnected with royalty."
Monkley indicated Sylvia with a significant look.
"This little French boy who is called Master Sylvestre at present may be heard of later."
Jimmy had accentuated her nationality. Sylvia, quick enough to see what he wanted her to do, replied in French.
A tall young man with an olive complexion and priestly gestures, standing close by, pricked up his ears at Monkley's remark. When Captain Grayrigg had retired he came forward and introduced himself as the Prince de Condé.
Monkley seemed to be sizing up the prince; then abruptly with an air of great cordiality he took his arm.
"Say, Prince, let's go and find an ice. I guess you're the man I've been looking for ever since I landed in England."
They moved off together to find refreshment. Sylvia was left in the antechamber, which was filled with a most extraordinary crowd of people. There were young men with very pink cheeks who all wore white roses or white carnations in their buttonholes; there was a battered-looking woman with a wreath of laurel in her hair who suddenly began to declaim in a wailful voice. Everybody said, "Hush," and tried to avoid catching his neighbor's eye. At first, Sylvia decided that the lady must be a lunatic whom people had to humor, because her remarks had nothing to do with the reception and were not even intelligible; then she decided that she was a ventriloquist who was imitating a cat. An old gentleman in kilts was standing near her, and Sylvia remembered that once in France she had seen somebody dressed like that, who had danced in a tent; this lent color to the theory of their both being entertainers. The old gentleman asked the baron if he had the Gaelic, and the baron said he had not; whereupon the old gentleman sniffed very loudly, which made Sylvia feel rather uncomfortable, because, though she had not eaten garlic, she had eaten onions for lunch. Presently the old gentleman moved away and she asked the baron when he was going to begin his dance; the baron told her that he was the chief of a great Scottish clan and that he always dressed like that. A clergyman with two black-and-white dogs under his arms was walking about and protesting in a high voice that he couldn't shake hands; and a lady in a Grecian tunic, standing near Sylvia, tried to explain to her in French that the dogs were descended from King Charles I. Sylvia wanted to tell her she spoke English, because she was sure something had gone wrong with the explanation, owing to the lady's French; but she did not like to do so after Jimmy's deliberate insistence upon her nationality.