The storm had burst at last. There had always been mental and temperamental barriers between the parent and child; but, after all, a mother is a mother; and nothing better has ever been invented yet. Sylvia fell on her knees by the sofa, and, burying her head in her mother's lap, sobbed as if parting with her youth.
The Grand Duchess thought of the last time when the girl had so knelt beside her, the bright hair under her caressing hand; and the contrast between then and now brought motherly tears to her eyes. That time had been in the dear old river garden at Richmond, when Sylvia had coaxed away her promise to help forward this very scheme—this disastrous, miserable, mad scheme. Poor little Sylvia, so young, so inexperienced, so thoroughly girlish for all her naughty obstinacy and 194 recklessness, sweet and loving and impulsive! The child had been so full of hope then; why, only a few hours ago, she had said she was the happiest creature on earth!
All the Grand Duchess's resentment melted away as she rocked the sobbing girl in the comfortable cradle of her arms, murmuring and crying over her—the hen-mother, over the golden duckling that had ventured into water too rough and treacherous.
"There, there, dear," she crooned. "It isn't so very dreadful; not half as bad as you made me think. I'm sure he meant well. It showed, at any rate, that he loved you. Just at first, it came as rather a shock, of course, knowing who we are; but if you had really been Miss de Courcy, I suppose—I suppose it would have been a great compliment."
"I call it an insult; I called it so to him," gasped Sylvia in the midst of sobs.
"Oh, dear me, not as bad as that—not at all! Many ladies of very high standing have been in such positions, and every one has thoroughly respected them. Though, of course, such a thing would never do for 195 you; you must reflect that Maximilian couldn't know that."
"He ought to have known—known that I would never consent. That no woman with English blood in her veins would ever consent. It was an insult. It has shown how poor was his estimate of me. It was—it was! It has broken my heart. It has killed me. Oh, mother, it's all at an end—everything I lived for. I can never bear to see him after this."
"You'll feel differently to-morrow, pet," purred the Grand Duchess, smoothing the tumbled waves of yellow hair.
"Never!"
"You are too young to fully understand the etiquette of Courts. Remember, his point of view is different from yours."