“We Americans are very polite,” said Acton, whose national consciousness had been complicated by a residence in foreign lands, and who yet disliked to hear Americans abused. “We don’t like to tread upon people’s toes,” he said. “But I should like very much to hear about your marriage. Now tell me how it came about.”
“The Prince fell in love with me,” replied the Baroness simply. “He pressed his suit very hard. At first he didn’t wish me to marry him; on the contrary. But on that basis I refused to listen to him. So he offered me marriage—in so far as he might. I was young, and I confess I was rather flattered. But if it were to be done again now, I certainly should not accept him.”
“How long ago was this?” asked Acton.
“Oh—several years,” said Eugenia. “You should never ask a woman for dates.”
“Why, I should think that when a woman was relating history “ Acton answered. “And now he wants to break it off?”
“They want him to make a political marriage. It is his brother’s idea. His brother is very clever.”
“They must be a precious pair!” cried Robert Acton.
The Baroness gave a little philosophic shrug. “Que voulez-vous? They are princes. They think they are treating me very well. Silberstadt is a perfectly despotic little state, and the Reigning Prince may annul the marriage by a stroke of his pen. But he has promised me, nevertheless, not to do so without my formal consent.”
“And this you have refused?”
“Hitherto. It is an indignity, and I have wished at least to make it difficult for them. But I have a little document in my writing-desk which I have only to sign and send back to the Prince.”