The slow waving of white feathers recommenced. He felt that she was looking at him; almost in spite of himself their eyes met. He looked away with hot cheeks and burning eyes. Was this girl a trained coquette, or——
“I do not think,” she said, “that you need consider that. I do not think that I shall ever marry Ughtred of Tyrnaus.”
Despite himself he spoke the thoughts which had filled his mind.
“You,” he said, “are ambitious. Have you no desire to be a queen?”
“I love power,” she answered, “but I am a woman—and I do not wish to marry Ughtred of Tyrnaus.”
Brand told himself fiercely that he was a fool. Yet the music was suddenly sweeter, his vague antipathy to the King had vanished into thin air, the taste of life was sweeter between his teeth.
“You may think me mad,” he said, “but I am—not sorry—to hear it.”
There was a short silence. It was evident that if she thought him mad she was not displeased.
“Some day,” she said, presently, “I should like to talk to you of Theos. I believe that before long there will be great changes here. A new order of things may come—and you are one of those whom Theos may look to for help.”
“I?” he repeated. “But, indeed, Countess, you are overrating me. I am only a journalist. I know nothing of statecraft.”