The girl sat back in her chair, and the moisture that had gathered in her eyes disappeared as if licked up by the little flame that burned in their depths.
“Very well,” she said. “Ask your questions, and I will answer them.”
“Before I put any question, I must have your consent to my first proposition.”
“That is quite unnecessary, my Lord. When you hear my answer to your questions, you will very speedily withdraw your first proposition.”
The Elector of Treves, who had been shifting uneasily in his chair, now leaned forward, and spoke in an ingratiating manner.
“Countess, you are a neighbor of mine, although you live on the opposite side of the river, and I am honored in receiving you as my guest. As guest and neighbor, I appeal to you on our behalf: be assured that we wish nothing but your very greatest good and happiness.” The spark in her eyes died down, and they beamed kindly on the courtier Elector. “You see before you three old bachelors, quite unversed in the ways of women. If anything that has been said offends you, pray overlook our default, for I assure you, on behalf of my colleagues and myself, that any one of us would bitterly regret uttering a single word to cause you disquietude.”
“My disquietude, my Lord, is caused by the refusal to utter the single name I have asked for. Am I a peasant girl to be handed over to the hind that makes the highest offer?”
“Not so. No such thought entered our minds. The name is, of course, a secret at the present moment, and I quite appreciate the reluctance of my Lord of Mayence to mention it, but I think in this instance an exception may safely be made, and I now appeal to his Lordship to enlighten the Countess.”
Mayence answered indifferently:
“I do not agree with you, but we are here three Electors of equal power, and two can always outvote one.”