She smiled at Andras, who accompanied Varhely, and who held in his hand the package with the seals unbroken.
“Princess!” she said. “That is a title by which every one has been calling me for the last hour; but it gives me the greatest pleasure to hear it spoken by you, my dear Varhely. But, Princess or not, I shall always be for you the Tzigana, who will play for you, whenever you wish it, the airs of her country—of our country—!”
There was, in the manner in which she spoke these simple words, a gentle grace which evoked in the mind of the old patriot memories of the past and the fatherland.
“The Tzigana is the most charming of all! The Tzigana is the most loved of all!” he said, in Hungarian, repeating a refrain of a Magyar song.
With a quick, almost military gesture, he saluted Andras and Marsa as they stood at the top of the steps, the sun casting upon them dancing reflections through the leaves of the trees.
The Prince and Princess responded with a wave of the hand; and General Vogotzine, who was seated under the shade of a chestnut-tree, with his coat unbuttoned and his collar open, tried in vain to rise to his feet and salute the departure of the last guest.
CHAPTER XXII. A DREAM SHATTERED
They were alone at last; free to exchange those eternal vows which they had just taken before the altar and sealed with a long, silent pressure when their hands were united; alone with their love, the devoted love they had read so long in each other’s eyes, and which had burned, in the church, beneath Marsa’s lowered lids, when the Prince had placed upon her finger the nuptial ring.
This moment of happiness and solitude after all the noise and excitement was indeed a blessed one!