“Chuck it in,” said Cyril, and his brother handed it to him, turning to rearrange the glowing gems on their velvet bed, with fingers that were not quite steady. The paper was in the Princess’s writing:—
“At last I am able to release your Majesty from a position which I grieve to see you have found intolerably irksome. They say that we women are willing to sell our very souls for jewels; but you will believe me when I tell you that I had far rather see your rubies in the possession of the person to whom they rightly belong, and to whom you would prefer to give them. When this time of storm and stress is over, and you meet Mdlle. Nadia again, present them to her with my love. Tell her this also in all friendliness, that if she desires a testimony to your character, she need only refer to me. You were right in saying, when you scolded me so rudely two days ago, that I should never have dared to go so far with any one else; but I felt that I could trust you, and my trust was justified by the event. At any rate, I will bear witness that you were softened by none of my overtures, that you kept me at a distance—not gently, no, I cannot say gently—but firmly, certainly, always firmly. Forgive me; this is the last time I shall tease you. My husband and I pray for your happiness and that of your bride.—From your friend,
“Ottilie, Princess of Dardania.
“I entreat you to give my remembrances to your brother, who will tell you any particulars about my wedding that you may care to hear.”
“Then you are glad to be out of it?” said Cyril.
“Glad? Rather! If I wasn’t a middle-aged monarch, I should throw up my cap and jump for joy. Give me the letter and I’ll tear it up. I shouldn’t like Nadia ever to come upon the detestable thing. Fancy a woman’s writing like that!”
“Then you intend to try your luck again with Miss O’Malachy?”
“How can I, so long as I am king? But to have got rid of this wretched entanglement seems to bring me nearer to her at once.”
“What a selfish beast you are!” was Cyril’s remark. “Thinking only of yourself, and nothing about Thracia, and what the breaking off of this affair will involve.”
“I’m very sorry if it leads to trouble,” said Caerleon, trying to look suitably serious, “and I’ll do all I can to set it right, short of running into another engagement; but you can’t expect me to be sorry that this one is over.”