“The creature must be a fool, or an adventuress,” pronounced the Chancellor. “If she has kept her senses she ought to know that nothing can come of this folly—except sorrow or scandal.”
Egon shrugged his stiffly padded, military shoulders. “I have always found that a woman in love doesn’t stop to count the cost.”
“So! You fancy her ‘in love’ with the Emperor.”
“With the man, rather than the Emperor, if I’m a judge of character.”
“Which you’re not!” Iron Heart brusquely disposed of that suggestion. “The merest school-girl could pull wool over your eyes, if she cared to take the trouble.”
“This one doesn’t care a rap. She hardly knows that I exist.”
“Humph!” The Chancellor’s eyes appraised his young brother’s features. “That’s a pity. You might have tried cutting the Emperor out. Her affair with him can have no happy ending; while you, in spite of all your faults, with your good looks, our position, and my money, wouldn’t be a bad match for an ambitious girl.”
“Your money?”
“I mean, should I choose to make you my heir, and I would choose, if you married to please me. Who are these Mowbrays?”
“I haven’t had the curiosity to inquire into their antecedents,” said Egon. “I only know that they’re ladies, that they must be of some consequence in their own country, or they couldn’t have got the letters of introduction they have; and that the girl is the prettiest on earth.”