"Your Highness's kindness overwhelms me, sir," I replied, deeply moved.
"No," he broke in emphatically, "it is I who am your debtor. I have just heard, Monsieur Vignerte, that you devote part of the little leisure that the education of my son leaves you to a task which is perhaps even more dear to me. This must, of course, be entirely between ourselves. I know the difficulties you must have met with before winning the confidence which I believe the Grand Duchess now extends to you. At first I did not know you well enough to speak more openly of my desire that you should be at her disposal, and try to interest her and save her from the fits of depression and that kind of spiritual disorder which are so fatal to her physical health. You understood, and have succeeded better than I could have hoped. You will thus realize that I am indeed in your debt."
There was so much sorrowful dignity in his voice that I was utterly overcome.
"Sir," I murmured, "I promise you ..."
He held out his hand.
"I don't need promises, monsieur. I know you now, and am certain that you will do everything you can to help the Grand Duchess. There is no better way of justifying my confidence in you. The task will not be always easy, I fear. A woman, especially when she has been stricken by the death of a man she loves, does not preserve that balance of mind of which we men are so proud. Do your best, monsieur." There was silence for a moment; then he continued: "I should add another form of thanks if it were not that any further mark of esteem is superfluous after the one I have given you in speaking as I have done. You must, however, allow me to offer you some recompense for the additional demands I am making upon you. I have just given orders that your salary is to be raised to fifteen thousand marks."
He met my protests with an exclamation.
"Nonsense!" he said, with his most charming smile. "Don't you play bridge every night at five pfennigs a point?"
* * * * * *
I was rather late for lunch, and found Professor Cyrus Beck in the thick of a dispute with Kessel. The latter obviously enjoyed teasing the old savant, who had a poor sense of humour and was purple with indignation.