The boy obeyed, and withdrew with more reluctance than he generally showed at quitting his mother’s presence.
“He is a little shy for his age,” remarked the Princess, as the door closed behind him; “but no doubt he will grow out of it before long. You would hardly take him for sixteen, would you?”
Dorothea made some suitable reply, and began to feel more at ease under the influence of this homely talk.
“And now, my dear child, tell me what is the matter?” said Hermengarde, patting the girl’s hand affectionately.
By way of answer Dorothea poured out the story of the day’s events, the hints of a royal marriage dropped by Johann, the promise which she had given to Maximilian to try and reciprocate his love, and, finally, the coarse attempt of her father to take the control of her conduct. The Princess listened, watching her with steady eyes, and nodding occasionally to herself. At the close Dorothea’s voice began to tremble, and she finished off with a broken appeal to her protectress.
“I have no one to tell me what to do,” she said. “All this has come upon me so suddenly. Two days ago I was like a child, without a care in the world, except when one of the hens laid an egg where I could not find it. And now there is nothing but trouble and difficulty, and I feel as if I should like to run away and hide myself. And you said I might come to you, and, oh, if you will only help me—”
She broke down, sobbing. Hermengarde extended her arm, and drew the girl to her bosom.
“I will help you, my dear,” she said, touched, apparently in spite of herself, by the young girl’s simple confidence in her.
“I think I see something in all this that you do not see yourself yet,” the Princess remarked presently. “But, in the meanwhile, I promise that you shall not marry the King unless you really wish it.”
Dorothea murmured her thanks.