He came forward and would have saluted her hand, but she caught him by the shoulders and kissed him on the brow—a caress he did her the honour of enduring in silence.
“How cold you are!” she exclaimed. “Have you ridden here in this rain?”
It had been pouring all day; the question seemed to William too foolish to answer.
“And on horseback!” cried the Princess, catching sight of his whip, and wet mantle over a chair.
“You know I cannot endure a carriage, Madame.”
The Princess rang the little silver bell on her work-table.
“It is very imprudent, my dear—allow old age its liberty in saying so—you need a woman to look after you. These men would let you kill yourself and never notice it. Come to the fire,” she finished, with a pretty air of command.
William obeyed, coughing a little, which caused her to raise still further her brows and shake her head.
A servant made his appearance.
“Remove His Highness’ mantle and dry it—and—whom have you brought with you, William?”