“Very well, then, you can tell him what I say. This is a matter that I make no sort of mystery about. I have noticed that, when you proclaim your plans boldly, they are already half accomplished. It is my wish, therefore, to marry my niece to the baron. You will tell me, perhaps, that he is not young; for that very reason he has no time to lose in frustrating the schemes of a dozen heirs whom he detests, and who are trying in vain to worm their way into his favor. Stay, there are two of them passing now; the one this way is the Count de Nora, an inoffensive, good-natured man; the other, the Baron de Lindenwald, is intelligent, designing, ambitious, and (like all of our nobility at present) poor. Baron Olaus is a happy exception, because he has no brothers. Now, what I want you to understand—you and your uncle as well—is, that the baron looks with a favorable eye upon my niece, and that she dislikes him. This does not discourage me at all. My niece is a child, and will submit. Since my resolution is known, no one will venture to pay court to him, and I will take care of her. Your uncle must undertake to bring the baron to a determination, and he can do it easily.”
“If the countess will condescend to give me her instructions—”
“You shall have them in two words: my niece loves the baron!”
“Really?”
“What! You do not understand? An aspirant in diplomacy!”
“Ah! of course;—excuse me, madame—Countess Margaret is reputed to love the baron, although she detests him, and—”
“The baron must believe that he is loved?”
“And it is Monsieur Goefle who must make him think so?”
“He alone. The baron is very suspicious; I have known him of old; I could not persuade him. He would suppose that I was interested.”
“Which is not the case,” said Cristiano, smiling.