"How can it be arranged? It is impossible; you must yield," he gasped.
"The President himself has arranged everything. That is," he added, with some malice, "he agreed to my proposition, as did the Secretary of State. The Secretary, to-morrow, will have an interview with the Grand Duke, and—"
"Will follow the Grand Duke's wishes?" eagerly asked Volkonsky, rising again.
"Not at all," replied Pembroke, with dignity. "Such is not the practice of this government. The Secretary will notify the Grand Duke what the President is prepared to yield out of courtesy to the Russian Government, and respect for the Czar's family. You will be allowed to present the Grand Duke to the President, according to the original programme. But you will be careful not to offer your hand to the President, or to presume to engage him in conversation. Don't forget this."
"And the State dinner to his royal highness?" asked Volkonsky, in a tremulous voice.
"A card will be sent you, but you must absent yourself. It was agreed that you had abundant resources by which you could avoid coming, which I warn you will not be allowed. You might be called away from Washington upon imperative business."
"Or I might be ill. It would perhaps be the best solution of the difficulty if I should be taken ill now, and remain so for the next two weeks."
Pembroke could not for his life, refrain from
