“You will allow Ernestine to talk you over,” said Princess Amalie suspiciously.
“You think that the honour of our order is not safe in my hands, I see. Well, if I promise to associate Sigismund of Hercynia with myself in the consideration of the matter, will that satisfy you?”
“My dear cousin, I would not presume to doubt you, but I am not unaware,” and Princess Amalie looked extremely knowing, “what an effect the sight of a pretty woman in tears produces on the firmness of most men. Still, if the Emperor Sigismund is with you——”
“You think that no tears would melt him? Well, Tant’ Amalie, is it settled? You say nothing to any one until we have inquired into the matter?”
“Not to any one? Oh, nothing in public, of course. But just to one or two——”
“Absolutely nothing to any one—on pain of my severe displeasure.”
“Of course, if you take that tone, my dear cousin—— But still, I think I have the right to know something of your reasons——”
“My reason is simple. We do not know that there is any truth in the story. That they are not married I am perfectly certain, for Mortimer is far too prudent a man to cut the ground from under his feet by putting himself so flagrantly in the wrong, and the rest of the tale may be equally false. Would you subject your niece to the pain and scandal of such a charge before it is proved to be true?”
“I think that she deserves any humiliation if she can stoop to contemplate such a misalliance,” was the stout reply.
“But if she is not contemplating any such thing? And even if it should be true, we must deal with the matter prudently. To stir up ill-feeling either in England or Thracia is not to be thought of at this moment. Rest assured, Tant’ Amalie, that the honour of your house is safe with us, and tell no one what you have told me. Especially do not answer that letter at present.”