You will doubtless, my friend, smile with pity at seeing me thus losing myself amongst idle recollections of the past, instead of coming at once to the grave disclosures that I have announced my intention of making; but, in spite of myself, I delay the time from moment to moment. I know how severe you are, and I am fearful of being blamed. Yes, blamed; because, instead of acting with reflection and prudence (prudence of one and twenty, alas!), I have acted foolishly, or, rather, I have not acted at all as—I have suffered myself to be carried away by the stream that urged me on, and it is only since my return from Gerolstein that I have been awakened from the enchanting vision that has lulled me to sleep for the last three months, and this awaking has been a sorrowful one.
Now, my friend, my dear Maximilian, I take courage. Hear me indulgently; I begin with fear and trembling—I dare not look at you, for when you read these lines, how grave and stern will your face become, stoic that you are!
After having obtained leave of absence for six months, I left Vienna, and remained some time with my father. His health was then good, and he advised me to visit my aunt, the Princess Juliana, superior of the abbey of Gerolstein. I think I have already told you that my grandfather was cousin-german to the present duke's grandfather, and the Duke Gustavus Rodolph, thanks to this relationship, had always treated my father and myself as his cousins.
You also know, I think, that during a long stay the prince made recently in France my father was left at the head of the affairs of the duchy. It is not any feeling of ostentatious pride, as you well know, Maximilian, that makes me recapitulate all these circumstances, but to explain to you the causes of the extreme intimacy that existed between the grand duke and myself during my stay at Gerolstein.
Do you recollect that last year, after our voyage on the banks of the Rhine, we heard that the prince had found and married, in extremis, the Countess Macgregor, in order to legitimise the daughter he had had by her by a previous and secret marriage, afterwards annulled, because it had been contracted against the consent of the late grand duke?
This young girl, thus formally recognised, this charming Princess Amelie, of whom Lord Dudley, who had seen her at Gerolstein about a year ago, spoke to us with an enthusiasm that we suspected of exaggeration, strange chance! who would have said then—
But although you have doubtless penetrated my secret, let me pursue the progress of events.
The convent of Ste. Hermangeld, of which my aunt is abbess, is scarcely a quarter of a league from Gerolstein, for the gardens of the abbey touch the outskirts of the town. A charming house, perfectly isolated from the cloisters, had been placed at my disposal by my aunt, who has, as you know, the affection of a mother for me. The day of my arrival she informed me a grand drawing-room would be held the next day, as the grand duke was going formally to announce his intended marriage with La Marquise d'Harville, who had just arrived at Gerolstein with her father, the Comte d'Orbigny.
The duke was blamed by some for not having sought an alliance with some royal house, but others, and amongst them my aunt, congratulated him on having chosen, instead of a marriage of ambition, a young and lovely woman to whom he was deeply attached, and who belonged to one of the first families in France. You know, too, that my aunt has always had the greatest regard for the grand duke, and has always appreciated his fine qualities.
"My dear child," said she to me, speaking of the drawing-room, to which I was going the next day,—"my dear child, the most astonishing sight you will see to-morrow will be the pearl of Gerolstein."