"Because I find it necessary that you should go to my house at Breda," he answered kindly. "There is no need for me to keep open this mansion—few of us live in Brussels now; and when I must come, I can lodge more simply. At Breda you will be safer than here."
"Ah, this is your economy, your retrenchment!" exclaimed Anne bitterly. "Do you not think I see how miserable this establishment has become? Half the servants we had formerly, and those with worn liveries; the stables half empty, the gardens neglected, and nothing increasing but debts!"
The Princess exaggerated, but there was truth in what she said—as Rénèe knew, and as it gave her a strange pang to know.
But William answered lightly—
"I am not as rich a man as I was, Anne, and shall be, likely enough, poorer before the tale is told. But if I do not spend what I did, it is not through niggardliness, but because I may need money for other purposes than that of magnificence. You shall be well enough at Breda."
"Not the Devil and all his legions shall drag me to Breda!" answered Anne, with great violence.
"Nay, but your husband will," answered William, smiling.
His good-nature, that arose from neither weakness nor indifference, but from a warm compassion and a deep sympathy for others, never failed him; not once had Rénèe seen him angry or rude to man or animal, and towards women he was always softly gentle.
Anne seemed to recognize this quality in him; to realize that all her fret and fury might be expended in vain against his serenity. She rose and without another word or look left him.
The Prince turned to Rénèe as she was following her mistress.