"Fever?" he asked, considerably puzzled. "Why, I thought I was pushed over a bridge."
"And so you were, but it terminated in a fever. The leeches do not know whether the accident brought on the fever, or whether the malady was already in your system. They have had several consultations about it."
"I do not see the sense of consulting about a thing like that. What difference does it make what gave me the fever, since it is very evident that I have it? How long have I been here altogether?"
"Just eight weeks ago this night, for I remember I ordered a gown from the best tailor of Salamanca, and he promised it in a week, and it has not come yet, and it was the night of your accident, for I heard about it just as the tailor was leaving the palace, where he had come to take my order. Eight weeks, think of it, and that gown no nearer finished, I will warrant, than it was the day it was fitted! These Spanish tradesmen are the slowest people in this world." And the Lady Clotilde became very much excited about her wrongs.
"Well, I think that your situation was better than mine during those eight weeks," said the jester, "but I dare say I was in no higher fever than you were throughout that time. I do not suppose I have missed anything by being ill, except, perhaps, several dozen bull-fights. I would I were back in Vienna again," he continued, with a sigh.
"Vienna? I would not return there for the world," said the lady. "The climate of Spain is simply glorious."
"I am not especially fond of climate by itself," said the fool.
"I really do think you ought not to talk," said the Lady Clotilde. "I do wish you had not returned to consciousness while Sister Barbara is out."
"You said that before," said the fool fretfully. "Why would it not be just as easy to wish that Sister Barbara had been in when I did return to consciousness?"
"I see that you are inclined to be captious," returned the Lady Clotilde calmly. "They say Prince Juan is like an angel."