Again there was a moment’s silence. Then Madame Ghita looked across at Selden.
“Come, M. Selden,” she said, “since you are my friend and my ally, what do you advise?”
“Ah, madame,” protested Selden, with a gesture of helplessness, “how can I advise? I do not know what is in your heart!”
“But if my heart is not concerned?”
“In that case,” said Selden, a little coldly, “I should by all means advise you to accept!”
He was looking at her now—at the vivid, mobile mouth with its little mysterious smile; at the eyes curiously intent, as though experience had taught her that she must look into people’s minds as they talked in order to get their full meaning. And suddenly she burst into a peal of laughter.
“How serious you are!” she cried. “And how shocked if, by any chance, a woman tells the truth! Come, it is settled! I accept! The prince shall have his little American with her millions, the king shall have his throne again, Lappo shall have his heart’s desire, and I—I shall have a hundred and fifty thousand francs a year, and shall be free to look for love! So we shall all be happy! It is understood of course that the hundred and fifty thousand will be mine to do with as I please?”
“But certainly!” said the countess, looking at her curiously. “There are no restrictions.”
“And you, Madame la Comtesse, what do you get? A new title? To serve one’s country, yes, that is very noble; men have died for their country; but for a woman it is not enough!”
“Ah,” said the countess, sombrely, “that is my secret! Perhaps you will know some day!”