SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
The boy touched the mark with his finger; a look of childish awe came into his blue eyes.
"Your luck!" he said, softly, and continued to look at the mysterious sign after Sophy had set him down again. The little scene was told all over Slavna before night—and men and women talked, according to their temper, of the nature and the meaning of the Red Star. If only the foolish think about such things, even the wise talk.
The King left his chair and mingled with his guests. His movement was the signal for a general relaxation of ceremony. The Prince came across the room and joined Sophy, who had returned to Marie Zerkovitch's side. He offered the Baroness his congratulations, but in somewhat constrained tones. His mind seemed to be on something else; once or twice he looked inquiringly at Marie, who in her turn showed signs of restlessness or distress. A silence followed on Sophy's expression of her acknowledgments. The Prince glanced again at Marie and made up his mind to speak.
"You've done me the kindness I asked?" he inquired of Marie.
Marie picked at the feathers of her fan in unhappy embarrassment. " No, sir, I haven't. I—I couldn't."
"But why not?" he asked in surprise.
"I—I couldn't," repeated Marie, flushing.
He looked at her gravely for a moment, then smiled. "Then I must plead my own cause," he said, and turned to Sophy. "Next week I'm leaving Slavna and going to my Castle of Praslok. It's near Volseni, you know, and I want to raise and train my gunners at Volseni. We must be ready for our guns when they come, mustn't we?"
His eyes met hers—eager glance exchanged for
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