Annunciata was in the last stages of irritation. There was no mistaking the sneer in Karl’s voice. His smile was forced. She guessed that he had heard of Nikky Larisch before, that, indeed, he knew probably more than she did. Just what, she wondered, was there to know? A great deal, if one could judge by Hedwig’s face.
“I hope you are working hard at your lesson, Otto,” she said, in the severe tone which Otto had learned that most people use when they refer to lessons.
“I’m afraid I’m not doing very well, Tante. But I’ve learned the ‘Gettysburg Address.’ Shall I say it?”
“Heavens, no!” she protested. She had not the faintest idea what the “Gettysburg Address” was. She suspected Mr. Gladstone.
The Countess had relapsed into silence. A little back from the family circle, she had watched the whole scene stonily, and knowing Karl as only a woman who loves sincerely and long can know a man, she knew the inner workings of his mind. She saw anger in the very turn of his head and set of his jaw. But she saw more, jealousy, and was herself half mad with it.
She knew him well. She had herself, for years, held him by holding herself dear, by the very difficulty of attaining her. And now this indifferent, white-faced girl, who might be his, indeed, for the taking, but who would offer or promise no love, was rousing him to the instinct of possession by her very indifference. He had told her the truth, that night in the mountain inn. It was Hedwig he wanted, Hedwig herself, her heart, all of her. And, if she knew Karl, he would move heaven and earth to get the thing he wanted.
She surveyed the group. How little they knew what was in store for them! She, Olga Loschek, by the lifting of a finger, could turn their smug superiority into tears and despair, could ruin them and send them flying for shelter to the very ends of the earth.
But when she looked at the little Crown Prince, legs dangling, eating his thin bread and butter as only a hungry small boy can eat, she shivered. By what means must she do all this! By what unspeakable means!
Karl saw the King that evening, a short visit marked by extreme formality, and, on the King’s part, by the keen and frank scrutiny of one who is near the end and fears nothing but the final moment. Karl found the meeting depressing and the King’s eyes disconcerting.
“It will not be easy going for Otto,” said the King, at the end of the short interview. “I should like to feel that his interests will be looked after, not only here, but by you and yours. We have a certain element here that is troublesome.”