“Not even to him, if you would rather not, though I don’t think I have ever kept anything secret from him before.”
“Your brother above all,” repeated the Princess, emphatically. “On your honour?”
“You don’t seem to trust him,” said Caerleon, feeling hurt.
“Not at all. It is simply that I owe him a little grudge. You know that he visited my father here nearly three weeks ago? I want to play him a trick in return for some things he did then. You understand, it is a whim of mine?”
“Yes,” returned Caerleon, only half satisfied.
“Ah! well, your Majesty, we are engaged—for a week. It will be necessary for us to appear in public together, but I will do my best not to be a very exacting companion. I know that you English do not make as much of betrothal as we Molzäuers do. Still, one must keep up appearances. I look to you to play your part.”
“In this way?” asked Caerleon, provoked by her mischievous tone, as he raised her hand to his lips.
“Ah, that is your custom? We in Germany should think it a little cold. If anything more is requisite, pray do the proper thing, without considering my feelings.”
“If my brother was here he would make a pretty speech about the honour’s being too great for safety,” said Caerleon. “I am not a good hand at compliments, and so, Princess, I must simply ask you not to tempt me.”
“Which is a polite way of saying that you decline the honour,” said the Princess, pouting slightly, and trying to withdraw her hand. At this interesting moment King Johann and Cyril, followed by the jägers, appeared at the end of the path. Cyril and the servants drew back hastily, but the King advanced with much dignity, and approached the pair.