"I love my daughter and she loves me, but I don't know what it is, I can't explain it," irresolutely.
"What can not your highness explain?"
"Perhaps the gap is too wide, perhaps the separation has been too long."
Herbeck did not press the duke to be more explicit. He opened another drawer and took forth a long hood envelope, crested and sealed.
"Your Highness, here is a letter from the prince regent of Jugendheit, formally asking the hand of the Princess Hildegarde for his nephew, Frederick, who will shortly be crowned. My advice is to accept, to let bygones be bygones."
"Write the prince that I respectfully decline."
"Do nothing in haste, your Highness. Temporize; say that you desire some time to think about the matter. You can change your mind at any time. A reply like this commits you to nothing, whereas your abrupt refusal will only widen the breach."
"The wider the breach the better."
"No, no, your Highness; the past has disturbed you. We can stand war, and it is possible that we might win, even against Jugendheit; but war at this late day would be a colossal blunder. Victory would leave us where we began thirty years ago. One does not go to war for a cause that has been practically dead these sixteen years. And an insult to Jugendheit might precipitate war. It would be far wiser to let me answer the prince regent, saying that your highness will give the proposal your thoughtful consideration."
"Have your way, then, but on your head be it if you commit me to anything."