"Ah, good, very good indeed," remarked the Prince in a spirit of acceptance.
And then, after a little more waiting, the lady came back to say that the Princess could not be found; she and one of her ladies had gone out together.
"How very forgetful of her!" exclaimed the Queen.
Just then, very discreetly, but with a look full of meaning, a private secretary came and put a telegram into the King's hand. Excusing himself to the Prince he opened it; it was postmarked from the station office at Schnapps, and it read thus—
"I have gone home. Charlotte."
It was no use; the surprise of it was too much for him. "She has run off!" he ejaculated; the compromising phrase had slipped out before he was aware.
"Who?" cried his wife, though knowing quite well.
"Charlotte; she has gone home."
Husband and wife stared at each other mute and amazed; while the Prince sat trying with amiable look to excuse himself for being there.
Then the Queen did her best to cover matters; but it was not a great success. "I knew that she wanted to get home," she murmured. "And she is so impulsive; sometimes there is no holding her at all."