“Why, what possible difference can it make to you, Ottilie?”
“I came here,” pursued the Princess of Dardania sadly, “full of hope for the future. It seemed to me that this visit of mine to you would mark the beginning of the fulfilment of the compact which you and I made with one another a year ago, before this change had come over you. Our children were to grow up together, and to learn to love one another from their earliest years, you will remember. Surely you might at least have warned me not to bring Lida with me.”
“But why should you not bring Lida? What change has come over me? I cannot imagine what you mean.”
“My dear Ernestine, you must be very well aware that Count Mortimer would never sanction a marriage between your son and any child of mine.”
“I am sure you are mistaken, Ottilie. Count Mortimer would be as anxious to secure Michael’s happiness as we are. I am so certain of this, that nothing but my agreement with you to keep the matter secret has prevented me from telling him of our plan. I have only been waiting for your consent.”
“And nothing would induce me to give it. To betray our scheme to Count Mortimer would be to ruin it. No, Ernestine, hear me out. Though you have so strangely constituted yourself his champion, you cannot forget the man’s past record. He would have sacrificed his own brother by a loveless marriage for the sake of a political advantage—he would have sacrificed me. So much for his general practice. Now as to this particular case. I refused to be sacrificed, and succeeded in outwitting him: he has never forgiven me. Even if political considerations rendered the match between Michael and Lida advisable—and from his point of view they do not—I believe that his hatred for me would lead him to prevent its taking place. His aim will be to marry Michael to one of Sigismund’s daughters—you know what their surroundings are like, and what amount of choice would be given to them in the matter, poor things!—and to tell him of our compact would simply ensure its never being fulfilled.”
“But Michael and Lida could not be married without his knowledge. Besides, I am sure I could persuade him——”
“When you know as much of Count Mortimer as I do, Ernestine, you will know that you might as well try to persuade a stone wall.” The Queen flushed indignantly, but checked the protest which had nearly escaped her lips. “Our hope lies in his having no suspicion of what is going on until the young people are old enough to have come to an understanding. Then you would have everything on your side in preventing their being sacrificed to political considerations; and if, after all, Count Mortimer was too strong for us, we could arrange for the children to be married as Alexis and I were.”
“A runaway match!” said the Queen, shocked, but a recollection that occurred to her served to modify the feeling. It was not so very long ago that she herself had suggested a similar proceeding to Cyril. “I don’t for a moment think that we shall be obliged to adopt such an expedient, Ottilie. I am sorry you won’t let me tell Count Mortimer what my wishes are, for I think you are making a mistake, but please understand that I was never more determined to adhere to our compact. My first duty now is to Michael, and nothing—not even Count Mortimer—shall induce me to allow him to be sacrificed to political expediency.”
“If you please, madame,” said Paula von Hilfenstein, appearing at the door, “your private secretary” (Baroness Paula called him “the Herr private secretary von Essen”) “has brought a number of letters, and asks whether your Majesty will be pleased to sign them.”