"The Princess Hildegarde. Do you recall the night in London," to me,
"when the same thing occurred? I am very anxious to meet this Princess
who looks so like me."
"You will have that pleasure immediately after the opera," said I.
Pembroke's eyes said something to me then, and I rose.
"There is Mr. Wentworth. I wish to speak to him. Will you excuse me?"
"With pleasure!" laughed Pembroke.
I threaded my way through the gathering throng to the side of Mr.
Wentworth.
"How d'y' do, Winthrop?" he said, taking me by the arm. "Come into the
conservatory. I want you to see some of the finest orchids that ever
came from South America. The girls are looking well to-night. I
suppose you noticed."
"Especially Phyllis." Our eyes met.
When we entered the conservatory, he suddenly forgot all about the
orchids.
"Jack, I'm worried about her--Phyllis. You see, she is not my niece.
There's a long story, This morning a gentleman visited my department.
He was Prince Ernst of Wortumborg. He began by asking me if Phyllis
was my niece. That started the business. He proceeded to prove to me,
as far as possible, that Phyllis was a Princess.
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