Yes, there they were, standing on the terrace which bounded the grounds of the villa on this side, Princess Bettine demure and dignified—she had cultivated dignity largely since her betrothal had conferred upon her the distinction of being a kind of modern Helen, whose charms were not unlikely to plunge Europe into war—and Princess Lida leaning forward and supporting herself by the branch of a tree as she waved her handkerchief vigorously.
“I am glad they came to see you off,” said the Princess, adding with a sigh, “you will never meet them quite on the same footing again, Michael.”
“Oh, why is everything so horribly mysterious and doleful, Tant’ Ottilie? You talk as if things were all going to be different now, and Lida is just as bad. She ran away when I wanted to say good-bye to her, and wouldn’t let me kiss her, and was as crotchety as she could be.”
“Michael, you are not in earnest? Oh, my poor innocent child, am I too late? No, no, don’t mind what I say, Michael. Forget it—promise me you will forget it. Promise faithfully to banish it from your mind, dear boy.”
“Of course I promise, if you wish it, Tant’ Ottilie,” replied the King, a good deal astonished, but the Princess did not appear to be satisfied.
“I ought to have thought of this. How could I be so culpably blind? But she is so young—it seemed quite safe. Poor little Lida! you will have to learn your lesson early. And Bettine is so thoroughly happy!”
“What do you mean, Tant’ Ottilie?” asked the puzzled boy. “Is any one unkind to Lida? I daresay she will feel lonely just at first when Bettine is married, but I shall come very often, and——”
“My dear Michael, you don’t understand anything about it. You are far too young—but Lida is younger, and she—— Oh, it is hard for her to be sacrificed at her age! But I blame myself. Your mother was wiser. She saw that mischief might happen, when I only thought of you all as children together. But I am punished. If only Lida had not to suffer for my blindness!”
“But she shall not suffer!” cried King Michael. “What is the matter with her? You are not going to send her to Scythia, like Kazimir?”
“Into the army, I suppose? No, Michael; your path and Lida’s will lie very far apart in future. The thought of her suffering need not trouble you; you will know little about her, and care less. You will marry one of the Hercynian Princesses, and live an exemplary domestic life——”