“No.”
“Had he ever heard of me before?”
“Surely,” replied the diplomatic Treves, “for the fame of the Countess von Sayn has traveled farther than her modesty will admit.”
“Did he agree?”
“Instantly; joyfully, it seemed to me.”
“In any case, he has never seen me,” continued the Countess. “Did he make any inquiry, whether I was tall or short, old or young, rich or poor, beautiful or ugly?”
“He seemed very well satisfied with our choice.”
Treves had his elbows on the table, leaning forward with open palms supporting his chin. He had spoken throughout in the most ingratiating manner, his tones soft and honeyed. He was so evidently pleased with his own diplomacy that even the eye of the stern Mayence twinkled maliciously when the girl turned impulsively toward the other end of the table, and cried:
“Guardian, tell me the truth! I know this young man accepted me as if I were a sack of grain, his whole mind intent on one thing only: to secure for himself the position of Emperor. Is it not so?”
“It is not so, Countess,” said Cologne solemnly.