"I don't much care about knowing old women," said the Count, who had no great love for his future mother-in-law, and had become much less deferential of late.
"But this one's a Duchess, Ruprecht!" whispered the agonised Queen. "Edna, my love, perhaps you had better——" and eventually he submitted with a slight scowl to be led up and presented by his fiancée.
"I hear I am to congratulate you—er—Count Fresser," said the Duchess. "You are certainly a fortunate man to have won a Princess."
"Not more fortunate than she," he replied. "She wanted a Superman, as she calls it. I am doing all I can to become one."
"If she isn't satisfied with you as you are, she must be hard to please."
"She is satisfied enough," he said. "Now it is for her to please me. She knows that by this time—don't you, Edna?"
"Yes, Ruprecht dear, yes," said Edna, hastily. "Of course I do. This is how he's taken to bullying me, Duchess," she added lightly. "Don't you think it's too bad of him?"
"It seems a little early to begin. You shouldn't allow it."
"Oh, but I like him to!" said Edna, pressing the Count's great arm.
"In that case, my dear," said the Duchess, "you have every prospect of a happy future!"