There was a sort of leery jubilance in her manner, sufficiently significant in the context of late forebodings. He looked at her stupidly.
“I do not understand,” he said.
“What!” she cried. “You have not heard?”
“Heard what? I have been absent all day.”
“And no advice has reached this amorous proxy from his indulgent principal? Eh well, monsieur! Wonders will never cease. It was for us to suppose that your periodical reports to the archduke were lately of such a favourable nature as to decide his Highness upon thus bringing matters to a head. And he has not informed you of his decision?”
“No, madame.”
“That I, then, should be the first to enlighten you!”
“If you please, madame.”
“It is only, monsieur, that her Imperial Majesty has despatched an ambassador to Parma to request for her son Joseph the hand of the Infanta. Such, you may consider if you like, is the fruit of your fond advocacy.”
If he was staggered, he took the blow standing and like a soldier. No hint of what he felt must betray itself here. Even the old lady was half imposed upon by his manner.