He had been talking over the matter with Victoria. That was beyond doubt.
"I happen to have been thinking," I rejoined, "more of him than of myself."
"Of course, of course," muttered William Adolphus in some confusion, and (as I thought) with a reproachful glance at his wife.
"We have lost the Prince," said my mother, "but we can still be guided by his example and his principles. To follow his counsels will be the best monument you can raise to his memory, Augustin."
I kissed her hand and then she gave me her cheek. Going to Victoria, I saluted her with brotherly heartiness. I never allowed myself to forget that Victoria was very fond of me, and I never lost my affection for her.
"Now don't be foolish, Augustin," she implored.
"What is being foolish?" I asked perversely.
"Oh, you know! You know very well what people say, and so do I."
"And poor old Hammerfeldt in heaven—does he know too?"
She turned away with a shocked expression. William Adolphus hid a sheepish smile with a large hand. In the lower ranges of humour William Adolphus sometimes understood one. I declined his offer of company over a cigar, but bade him good-night with a mild gratitude; he desired to be pleasant to us all, and the realization of his ambition presented difficulties.