“You could have evaded him,” said William. “But no, you must meet him half-way; and, after declaring me of age, render us both foolish by waiving all discussion as to my future until I am twenty-two, the age the State appointed from the first … M. de Witt promises his friendship in four years time—and for that you retract everything——”
“Indeed no——”
But the Prince swept aside her protestations.
“You gave your consent to my remaining under the guardianship of M. de Witt, just as you put my education into the hands of the States, when they made overtures to you.”
“You have never forgiven it,” sighed Amalia of Solms, “but it was always for your good that I acted. The States took you under their protection … I could do nothing for you.”
William fixed his intense gaze on her.
“I would rather have been brought up by any poor pastor at a florin a week than by M. de Witt. You delivered me into a prison, Madame; and now, when I force the gates open, you close them on me again.”
The Princess furled her fan with a rattle of the ebony sticks.
“Indeed you wrong me—and hurt me, William.” She was flushed, distressed. “I did not dare offend M. de Witt—for your sake—it is better for you to have him as a friend than as an enemy. Where do we stand if he turns on us? The States——”
The Prince rose and leant against the mantelpiece, silencing the old lady with the manifest displeasure in his manner.