‘Why has he done it?’ said one of the Russian diplomatists to another, when they had taken leave of the Princess and her party.
‘I imagine that Madame Napraxine piqued him,’ said another. ‘You know he has been madly in love with her for two years.’
‘She does not seem to like his marriage.’
‘They never like it,’ returned the Russian minister. ‘They may not look at you themselves, but they never like you to look at any one else.’
‘If he marry her because he is in love elsewhere, and if she have the Princess Nadine for an enemy at the onset, this poor child’s path will not be of roses.’
‘She will be almost the richest woman in Europe; that must suffice.’
‘That will depend on her character.’
‘It will depend a little on whether she will be in love with her husband. If she be not, all may go smoothly.’
‘Do you know what I thought as I looked at Madame Napraxine just now?’ said the younger man. ‘I thought of that Persian or Indian tale where the woman, leaning over the magic cup, dropped a pearl from her necklace into it, and spoilt the whole charm for all eternity. I dare say it will be only a pearl which she will drop into Othmar’s future life, but it will spoil the whole charm of it for ever and ever.’