"Your highness is wrong," remonstrated old Stadinger, who always gave his master the title once at least in each sentence, for he thought if he did have to read the prince a lecture every now and then, he must show him some respect while doing it, "and it is unchristian, too, for the marriage relation is a holy state in which it is well to live; your father, blessed be his memory, married—and so did I."
"Of course, and so did you. Yes, you are the grandfather of that lovely girl, Zena, whom you sent away in such shameless haste. By the way, when is Zena coming back?"
The steward appeared not to hear the question, but returned obstinately to his theme.
"Her highness, the duchess, and princess Sophie, are very anxious to see you married. Your highness should think it well over."
"Well, that's enough of your fatherly advice for one day. And it's no business of princess Sophie. By the way, as you are going to Bucheneck, where the hunt meets to-day, it's very possible that you will be seen and spoken to by some of the court."
"Very possible, your highness," agreed the steward, complacently. "Her grace often honors me with a little conversation, for she recognizes me as the oldest servant of a princely house."
"Well, if the princess should inquire by chance about the snakes and beasts of prey which I brought with me from my travels, you can tell her that I'm going to have them sent to one of my other castles."
"That is not at all necessary, your highness," replied the steward. "Your gracious aunt has obtained information about everything."
"Information? About what? Perhaps you have given it."
"I was questioned the other day at Fürstenstein. Princess Sophie was just returning from a walk and beckoned me to her to ask me a few questions."