“One would say that I had been in hiding?” coldly.
“From me, always. I have left everything—duty, obligations—to seek you.”
“From any other man that might be a compliment.”
“I am a prince,” he said proudly.
She faced him with that quick resolution, that swift forming of purpose, which has made the Irish so difficult in argument and persuasion. “Will you marry me? Will you make me your wife legally? Before all the world? Will you surrender, for the sake of this love you profess, your right to a great inheritance? Will you risk the anger and the iron hand of your father for my sake?”
“Herr Gott! I am mad!” He covered his eyes.
“That expression proves that your Highness is sane again. Have you realized the annoyances, the embarrassments, you have thrust upon me by your pursuit? Have you not read the scandalous innuendoes in the newspapers? Your Highness, I was not born on the Continent, so I look upon my work from a point of view not common to those of your caste. I am proud of it, and I look upon it with honor, honor. I am a woman, but I am not wholly defenseless. There was a time when I thought I might number among my friends a prince; but you have made that impossible.”
“Come,” he said hoarsely; “let us go and find a priest. You are right. I love you; I will give up everything, everything!”
For a moment she was dumb. This absolute surrender appalled her. But that good fortune which had ever been at her side stepped into the breach. And as she saw the tall form of the Barone approach, she could have thrown her arms around his neck in pure gladness.
“Oh, Barone!” she called. “Am I making you miss this dance?”