"Oh, madame," he said, pressing Aurora's hand, "what a dreadful misfortune."
"Fate brings these catastrophes, sir," replied the Grand Duchess, with wonderful self-possession.
"However did it happen?"
"How should I know, sir?" replied Aurora. "Truth to tell I know no more about it than you yourself know of the origin of tonight's fire."
The blow went home, but the Grand Duke did not lower his head.
"You are right, what does it matter how it happened since the dreadful results are only too self-evident? Let me associate myself with you in mourning the terrible loss you have suffered in Fräulein von Graffenfried's death."
"Terrible it is, sir," replied Aurora, "and that is why I hasten to express my gratitude to you, since I have you to thank for the fact that it is not utterly irreparable. Perhaps you had some forebodings of what was to come when you decided to give me a second confidante in the person of Monsieur Vignerte?"
Frederick-Augustus bit his lips. But his reply was terrible.
"I know, Madame, that you value M. Vignerte's services highly, and I am delighted. And if Fräulein von Graffenfried's dreadful end moves me so much, in its effect on yourself, it is because I know that there are some things for which a woman is irreplaceable."
Such an exchange of envenomed condolences seemed to me almost terrifying. Kessel, Colonel von Wendel, and the others who were standing round, had no idea of the full meaning of the tragedy. I was at once proud and dismayed to share such confidences. Memories of Professor Thierry shot through my mind. I had promised him never to mix myself up in the private affairs of the Lautenburg sovereigns!...