The Count was the first who came to his assistance.
"The youth is not so bad, Princess," he said. "He has an air of society about him, in spite of his youth."
The Prince looked at the Count with a pleased expression.
"Do not fear for the children, Adelaide," he said; "they will fare very well. Their manners are improved already. When they come to Vienna you will see how fine their breeding will be thought to be. Leave them to me. You do not care for them; leave them to me and to the Herr Tutor."
Mark was looking at the Count. This was another strange study for the boy. He was older than the Prince—a man of about forty; more firmly built, and with well-cut but massive features. He wore a peruke of very short, curled hair; his dress was rich, but very simple; and his whole appearance and manner suggested curiously that of a man who carried no more weight than he could possibly help, who encumbered himself with nothing that he could throw aside, who offered in every action, speech, and gesture the least possible resistance to the atmosphere, moral, social, or physical, in which he found himself. His manner to the Prince was deferential, without being marked, and he evidently wished to propitiate him.
"Thou art very pious, I hear," said the Princess, addressing Mark in a tone of unmitigated contempt.
The boy only bowed.
"Is he dumb?" said the Princess, still with undisguised disdain.
"No," said the Prince quietly. "He can speak when he thinks that what he says will be well received."
"He is wise," said the Count.