The Duke would be here any moment. I had come to my last stand.
"You have asked for an explanation. I will give it to you," I said. "I pity you because you do not enter into this masquerade of your own free will, nor because you like it, but rather because you love your father and desire to further his ambition. So far, am I not right?"
"I love my father," she replied, soberly, "he is all I have in the world."
"And to that affection you have sacrificed everything in life that makes life worth the living. Where are the girl friends who should be yours? You dare not bring them here for fear of discovery. The young nobles of this country cannot come to see you. Here you live in loneliness, you who were made for better things. You had a taste of happiness when you were away at the English schools, and you know what you are sacrificing. And for what? To gratify an old man's whim."
"No, no," she cried, as if she would not hear.
"Have you stopped to look at the future? To me that will be worse than the past. The time will come when you may no longer be a woman but must ever be a man. Once you have taken up the sceptre the door is shut behind you. You can never marry; you can never have a lover and a husband; you can never have children. All this to gratify an evil ambition."
A look of deep agony drove the light of battle from the poor girl's eyes. She followed each word until her pent-up feelings could no longer be restrained.
"Stop, stop! for God's sake!" she cried, beating upon her breast with her clenched fists. "Don't, don't talk so. I cannot bear it. Haven't I known all this? Oh, haven't I seen it often in the night? Sleep flees from me and these thoughts come and will not let me rest. The years that are past have been unhappy enough, but the years to come will be worse. To be always watchful lest I betray myself! to go on acting—acting—ever acting, never able to be just myself—"
"Never to love as other women love," I said, gently.
"Oh, you don't know," she cried, vehemently, "you don't know all the agony I have suffered. I have seen peasant women in the streets of Nischon suckling their dirty babes; I have seen the love in their eyes for the stalwart men at their sides, and I have hated them. Hated them, do you hear? I could have killed them for daring to be happy while I am so miserable—I, a princess of Bharbazonia. They point me out to their little ones and hold them up to see the great lady riding by—they envy me—me!—me! Oh, God, how little they know that I would give everything to change places with the humblest of them."