"You may have to wait a long time," began the King, and then he stopped; for looking into the future he saw Max in a new light, that same fierce light which had beaten upon himself for the last twenty-five years, preventing him from doing so many things he had wished to do. It would prevent Max too.
"But I want your consent now, father," said the young man; and there was something of real affection in his voice.
"Why can't you wait till I am dead?"
"That would be selfish of me. Do you not want to see me happy first?"
But to that the King only shook his head.
"It won't do, Max, it won't do. The Archbishop wouldn't like it either," he went on, trying to get back to the political aspect again. "It would be terribly damaging to him. With a connection like that, leadership of his party would become impossible."
"Have we to consider the political ambitions of an archbishop?"
"You would have to get his consent."
"I don't think so. All she bargained for was yours. I told her I would get it; and she did not believe me."
"You make me wish that I were altogether out of the way."