Hermengarde turned towards the jealous belle with a cruel smile—
“You see, Gertrude, if even this man is so carried away, what the King must think of her. And she is young, too. Why, you are scarcely twenty, but this girl is some years under you. How old is she, Karl?”
“Scarcely seventeen, Madam.”
“You hear. No wonder my nephew is so fascinated.”
Gertrude was unable to make any reply to these stabs. Karl seized the opportunity of adding a fresh item to his report.
“His Majesty took her a present to-day,” he observed; “a brooch set with jewels, which came from Paris this morning.”
“Did he?” The Princess turned again to her victim. “I think the King once gave you a brooch?”
“No, Madam, it was a bracelet,” answered the girl sullenly, half stifled with mingled shame and anger.
Hermengarde saw that she had gone far enough, and dismissed her emissary.
“Thank you, Karl, that will do. Come to me again if you have anything fresh to tell.”