The prince was on his feet.
“I cannot consent, sir, to listen to such——”
“Oh, yes, you can. I’ve heard of your sort. But I somehow thought they were all counts. I didn’t know exactly how a prince stood; but I supposed the job carried an income with it. It seems you’re just in the count class, after all. The kind of man that loafs about Yurrup living on the name of some ancestor who got his title by acting as hired man to his king or emperor or whoever ruled his two-for-a-quarter country. The sort of man that does nothing for a living and don’t even do that well enough to keep him in pocket money. Then some lookout makes the high sign, ‘Heiress in sight!’ and——”
Blanche burst into tears. Her husband threw his arm about her shoulders in assiduous, theatrical fashion, while Caleb sat gnawing his unlighted cigar and grimly eyeing the couple.
“There, there, carissima mia!” soothed d’Antri, “your father knows no better. In this barbarous country of his there are no leisure classes. I——”
“You bet there are!” snorted Caleb. “Only, here we call ’em tramps. And we give ’em thirty days instead of our daughters. Here, stop that damned snivelling, Blanche! You know how I hate it. I’m stung all right, and it’s too late to squeal. The only time there’s any use in crying over spilt milk is when there’s a soft-hearted milkman cruising around within hearing distance. And from where I sit, I don’t see any such rushing to my help. You’ll get your ‘dot’ all right. Just as you knew you would before you put up that whimper. We’ll fix up the details when I’ve got more time on my hands.
“Only, I want you and me and this prince-feller of yours to understand each other, clear. I’m letting myself be bled for a certain sum, because I’ve crowed so loud about your being a princess that I can’t back down now without raising a laugh, and without spoiling all I’ve planned to get by this marriage. Besides, I’m going to run for governor, and I don’t want any scandal or ‘dramatic separation for lack of cash’ coming from my own family. I’m caught fair, and I’ll pay. But I want us three to understand that it’s straight blackmail, and that I pay it just as I’d pay to have any other dirty story hushed up. That’ll be all to-day. If you want some reading matter, Prince, here’s a paper with a list of the liners that sail for Yurrup next week. Nothing personal intended, you know. Good-by.”
“But, papa—” began Blanche, who, like d’Antri, had listened to this exordium with far less natural resentment than might have been looked for.
“That’ll be all, I said,” repeated Conover. “You win your point. Clear out! I’m busy.”
The princess knew Caleb too well to press the victory further. She tearfully left the room, d’Antri following in her wake. At the door the latter paused, his long white fingers toying with his silky beard.