“Ah! And have you any objection to tell me the name of this fortunate man?”
“Yes. I will never tell you!” cried Dorothea, wildly. “And I will never speak to you again.”
She turned and ran rapidly off, while Johann remained as if rooted to the ground, gazing after her with an expression of hopeless bewilderment.
Meanwhile, Maximilian, his brow overcast, and his whole manner burdened with a melancholy too great to be concealed, had reappeared in the ball-room, where the Kaiser and Hermengarde were just finishing a whispered conversation.
“I can well understand,” the Princess was saying, “that you did not attach much weight to the alarms of a weak-minded old man like the Chancellor; and besides, as you have pointed out, political follies could be checked at any time. But a mésalliance would be a very different thing. We cannot afford to have the royal caste contaminated by the intrusion of peasants.”
The Kaiser nodded earnestly.
“And there is this additional danger,” pursued the Princess, “that a freak of this kind might be carried out too secretly for any one to interfere before it was too late. It would cause me no surprise if my nephew were to walk into my apartments at any moment, and inform me that he had provided the Court with a queen.”
“That will never do; that must be prevented at all costs,” muttered the Kaiser.
“I was sure you would say so. The whole idea is insane,” returned the Princess. “Besides,” she pursued artfully, “what we desire is to see our King allied with some great European House. Think what an advantage it would be for Franconia if we could induce you to bestow one of your sisters upon the King! I know that, were my son likely to ascend the throne, such a match would become my highest ambition for him.”
The Kaiser smiled shrewdly, but made no reply.