He forced himself to smile, however. “If she only likes me just a little,” he said lightly, “it is more than I dare to hope, or deserve. Come, now, we have spent too much time over love and delegations. Suppose we go and ride.”
But on the way across the Place Prince Ferdinand William Otto resumed the subject for a moment. “If you would marry Hedwig,” he suggested, an anxious thrill in his voice, “you would live at the Palace always, wouldn’t you? And never have to go back to your regiment?” For the bugaboo of losing Nikky to his regiment was always in the back of his small head.
“Now, listen, Otto, and remember,” said Nikky, almost sternly. “It may be difficult for you to understand now, but some day you will. The granddaughter of the King must marry some one of her own rank. No matter how hard you and I may wish things to be different, we cannot change that. And it would be much better never to mention this conversation to your cousin. Girls,” said Nikky, “are peculiar.”
“Very well,” said the Crown Prince humbly. But he made careful note of one thing. He was not to talk of this plan to Hedwig, but there was no other restriction. He could, for instance, take it up with the Chancellor, or even with the King to-morrow, if he was in an approachable humor.
Hedwig was not at the riding-school. This relieved Prince Ferdinand William Otto, whose views as to Nikky were entirely selfish, but Nikky himself had unaccountably lost his high spirits of the morning. He played, of course, as he always did. And even taught the Crown Prince how to hang over the edge of his saddle, while his horse was cantering, so that bullets would not strike him.
They rode and frolicked, yelled a bit, got two ponies and whacked a polo ball over the tan-bark, until the Crown Prince was sweating royally and was gloriously flushed.
“I don’t know when I have been so happy,” he said, dragging out his handkerchief and mopping his face. “It’s a great deal pleasanter without Hedwig, isn’t it?”
While they played, overhead the great hearse was ready at last. Its woodwork shone. Its gold crosses gleamed. No fleck of dust disturbed its austere magnificence.
The man and the boy who had been working on it stood back and surveyed it.
“All ready,” said the man, leaning on the handle of his long brush. “Now it may happen any time.”