"I do not understand a word," said the mystified empress.
"But I do," returned the emperor, with a meaning smile. "Since your majesty has thrust yourself into the portals of my confidence, I must e'en take you with me into the penetralia, and confess at once that I have a passion, which has cost me many a sleepless night, and has preoccupied my thoughts, even when I was by your majesty's side."
"But I see nothing of love or passion in this letter," replied Maria
Theresa, glancing once more at its singular contents.
"And yet it speaks of nothing else. I may just as well confess, too, that in pursuit of the object of my love, I have spent three hundred thousand guilders, and thrown away at least one hundred thousand guilders' worth of diamonds."
"Your mistress must be either very coy or very grasping," said Maria
Theresa, almost convulsed with jealousy.
"She is very coy," said the emperor. "All my gold and diamonds have won me not a smile—she will not yield up her secret. But I believe that she has responded to the love of one happy mortal, Count Saint-Germain."
"Count Saint-Germain!" exclaimed the empress, amazed.
"Himself, your majesty. He is one of the fortunate few, to whom the coy beauty has succumbed; and to take his place I would give millions. Now, I heard yesterday that the confidant of the count was in Vienna; and, hoping to learn something from him, I invited him hither. Signor Riccardo—"
"SIGNOR Riccardo! Was this letter written by a man?"
"By the husband of the dancer."