His Highness talked with Madame de Sabloukoff on questions of state as he might have talked with a Metternich; he even invited from her expressions of opinion that were almost counsels, sentiments that might pass for warnings. He ranged over the news of the day, relating occasionally some little anecdote, every actor in which was a celebrity; or now and then communicating some piece of valueless secrecy, told with all the mystery of a “great fact;” and then he discussed with Upton the condition of England, and deplored, as all Continental rulers do, the impending downfall of that kingdom, from the growing force of our restless and daring democracy. He regretted much that Sir Horace was not still in office, but consoled himself by reflecting that the pleasure he enjoyed in his society had been in that case denied him. In fact, what with insinuated flatteries, little signs of confidence, and a most marked tone of cordiality, purposely meant to strike beholders, the Prince conducted the conversation right royally, and played “Highness” to perfection.
And these two crafty, keen-sighted people, did they not smile at the performance, and did they not, as they drove home at night, amuse themselves as they recounted the little traits of the great man's dupery? Not a bit of it. They were charmed with his gracious manner, and actually enchanted with his agreeability. Strong in their self-esteem, they could not be brought to suspect that any artifice could be practised on them, or that the mere trickery and tinsel of high station could be imposed on them as true value. Nay, they even went further, and discovered that his Highness was really a very remarkable man, and one who received far less than the estimation due to him. His flightiness became versatility; his eccentricity was all originalty; and ere they reached the hotel, they had endowed him with almost every moral and mental quality that can dignify manhood.
“It is really a magnificent turquoise,” said the Princess, gazing with admiration at a ring the Prince had taken from his own finger to present to her.
“How absurd is that English jealousy about foreign decorations! I was obliged to decline the Red Cross of Massa which his Highness proposed to confer on me. A monarchy that wants to emulate a republic is simply ridiculous.”
“You English are obliged to pay dear for your hypocrisies; and you ought, for you really love them.” And with this taunt the carriage stopped at the door of the inn.
As Upton passed up the stairs, the waiter handed him a note, which he hastily opened; it was from Glencore, and in these words:—
Dear Upton,—I can bear this suspense no longer; to remain here canvassing with myself all the doubts that beset me is a torture I cannot endure. I leave, therefore, at once for Florence. Once there,—where I mean to see and hear for myself,—I can decide what is to be the fate of the few days or weeks that yet remain to—Yours,
Glencore.
“He is gone, then,—his Lordship has started?”
“Yes, your Excellency, he is by this time near Lucca, for he gave orders to have horses ready at all the stations.”