"But I've never said that I was—was anyone's wife."
There was a piteous appeal in her voice and he was not slow to notice it and rejoice. Then his heart smote him.
"But what is to become of me if you are not the princess?" he asked after a long pause. "I can no longer serve you. This is my last day in the castle guard."
"You are to go on serving me—I mean you are to retain your place in the service," she hastened to say. "I shall keep my promise to you." How small and humble she was beginning to feel. It did not seem so entertaining, after all, this pretty deception of hers. Down in his heart, underneath the gallant exterior, what was his opinion of her? Something was stinging her eyes fiercely, and she closed them to keep back the tears of mortification.
"Miss Calhoun," he said, his manner changing swiftly, "I have felt from the first that you are not the princess of Graustark. I knew it an hour after I entered Edelweiss. Franz gave me a note at Ganlook, but I did not read it until I was a member of the guard."
"You have known it so long?" she cried joyously. "And you have trusted me? You have not hated me for deceiving you?"
"I have never ceased to regard you as my sovereign," he said softly.
"But just a moment ago you spoke of me as a frisky American girl," she said resentfully.
"I have used that term but once, while I have said 'your highness' a thousand times. Knowing that you were Miss Calhoun, I could not have meant either."
"I fancy I have no right to criticise you," she humbly admitted. "After all, it does not surprise me that you were not deceived. Only an imbecile could have been fooled all these weeks. Everyone said that you were no fool. It seems ridiculous that it should have gone to this length, doesn't it?"