IX

"The sash, Excellency?" Jon longed to see his
master in full regalia once more, and after all, was
not this an embassy of a sort? But Rezanov, who
already regarded his reflection with some humor,
shook his head.

"I'll go as far as decency permits, for no one is
so impressed by external magnificence as the Span-
iard. But full dress uniform and orders are enough;
an ambassador's sash and they might suspect I took
them for the children they are. Children are not
always fools. My stock is too tight. Remember
that I am to dance, and am too tall for most wom-
men's pretty little ears. And I doubt if an ear is
less thirsty for being so provocatively screened."

Jon, a "prince" whose family had fallen upon evil
days long since, but whose thin, clever fingers were
no mean inheritance, unwound and readjusted the
folds of soft batiste, that most becoming neck ves-
ture man has ever worn. He fain would have
pressed the matter of the sash, but Rezanov, most
indulgent of masters to this devoted servant, was
never patient of insistence. Jon also regretted the
powdered wig and queue, which he privately thought