As he went on, the Princess and Von Sigismark exchanged quick glances. At the end Hermengarde rose to her feet.
“Allow me to thank you, sir, for your very valuable aid. Go, and do not lose a moment in carrying out what you propose.”
Herr Moritz bowed sedately and left the room. The old Chancellor followed, gnawing his lip.
Hermengarde, left to herself, remained motionless in her seat for a considerable time, plunged in profound thought. After a time she rose, crossed the floor quietly, opened the door into the adjoining saloon and looked through.
An hour before she had left her son Ernest there engaged in a game of chess with Gertrude von Sigismark, while Dorothea Gitten was employed on some embroidery work in a far corner. Now she beheld Gertrude sitting by herself, absently toying with the chessmen, while Ernest had placed himself on a stool beside the forester’s daughter, and was eagerly talking to her.
Giving a slight stamp of her foot to draw their attention, the Princess addressed her son—
“Ernest, do you not see that Lady Gertrude is ready for another game?”
The boy turned to her, frowning, but did not rise from his seat.
“It is my fault,” Gertrude hastened to explain. “I was compelled to go and see some one, and I have only this minute returned.”
Hermengarde gave her a quick glance of suspicion, then she remarked, without seeming to address any one in particular—