“It is not pleasant to return to one’s country as I have returned—an exile and a fugitive,” she said, in a heavy voice, “to wait here day by day, like a poor petitioner, to gain my brother’s ear—but it is an added bitterness to think that I have brought with me one who will be a mischief in Sweden.”
“So your Highness thinks of this lady as a mischief?” asked the Count thoughtfully.
“You know, sir,” she replied, disdainful of pretense, “that is what you came to tell me.”
“No,” he said, looking at her straightly. “I think she might be useful.”
“To whom?” cried the Duchess.
“To Sweden.”
As the King’s sister understood the King’s minister, she colored swiftly and drew a step away from him.
“This is not Versailles,” she said. Then in a tone of real disgust, “Heavens! would you seek to rule the King through women?”
“If it was the only way.”
“A boy!”