"You must know, Madame," she said slowly, "whether you would hinder or further the Prince his projects?"
Mary flushed, and the full brown eyes narrowed.
"Neither you nor I," she answered, "can discuss His Highness his projects, which ever have been and will be for the good of Europe."
Basilea looked at her curiously.
"I fear Your Highness will think me impertinent, but," she thought of the grave words of M. D'Avaux, and the memory urged her not to be put off by the evasiveness of the Princess—"but there are strange things said in Paris and London——"
"Madame de Marsac," interrupted Mary gently, "if my father hath cause to complain of me, he must send a direct messenger."
Basilea felt herself rebuked.
"I do not carry His Majesty's complaints, Highness," she answered humbly. "I am but the poor engine of the fears of my Lady Sunderland, who saith that in London the Prince his name is on the lips of all the discontents, and it is feared that they might set him up as a pretender; and since that could not be if you refused your consent, it would be a great comfort to His Majesty and his faithful ministers if you would give that assurance."
The Princess took a step forward, then stopped as if by an effort of self-control.
"I cannot deal with these secret and underground counsels," she said firmly; "and my poor brains are not fit for business."