"I think," he said quietly, "that you will have enough to do with your correspondence—I take everything upon me for to-day. Your pardon, Mr. Wemyss, but I am afraid you have dropped something!"
"Ah, so I have—it is nothing—I am much obliged to you."
He spoke the truth. It was nothing to him—what, indeed, could be anything in comparison with those eight closely written sheets of large letter paper from his Princess—only the half of which he had yet mastered. Elsa of Saxe-Brunschweig had never written him so long a letter since the day when they agreed, long ago in Vienna, that for the good of her house and country she must marry the old duke-elector.
So it came to pass that Julian Wemyss was grateful to Patsy for bringing him such good fortune. Nor was he surprised out of measure when he heard that his niece had the offer of the hand of a Prince reigning in his own right.
But better than any one else, Julian could measure the greatness of the Prince's affection, because he knew what these royal and grand ducal persons think of their order. He saw that it was in some sort a defiance flung at the court of Austria, which Eitel of Altschloss had served so bravely, and which had done nothing for the young captain of horse till he found himself suddenly pistoned into a princedom.
Before going further he read the Prince's letter. It was in German, and most courteously expressed. Julian Wemyss thought well of the man, and saw no reason why he should not assist, so far as he could, in settling Patsy in so enviable a position. It would be new, of course, but Patsy had been carefully taught. The best of blood ran in her veins, and by nature she was quick, sympathetic and receptive.
The people of Altschloss were simple and would appreciate frankness and simplicity in others. It was, in fact, almost an ideal arrangement, and besides, at Altschloss she would find herself in the immediate vicinity of the Princess Elsa. Nay, she would enter her castle and begin her duties with the Princess by her side. Nothing could possibly turn out better. It was wonderful what Elsa could do. There was no doubt she had caused Patsy to go to London and brought the Prince across half Europe simply that she might make a love-match—one that would be the very opposite in every respect of her own unfortunate experience.
Julian Wemyss could contain himself no longer. He must share his delight with some one. So he turned to his companion, who was busy with the "drying" of the dishes and utensils.
"Stair," he cried, "what do you think? Our little Patsy is going to be a Princess!"
"Ah!" said Stair, calmly, without raising his eyes, and finished with peculiar care the drying of the tall wine-glass which had been brought over from Abbey Burnfoot by Joseph's special intervention, and reserved for "the master, who is partial to it."