“You forget the Professor,” said Zoe.
“Oh, blow the Professor! What did he mean by mixing things up in this way? Why couldn’t he have left Eirene alone, instead of feeding her up with the thought that she was the heir, and then bringing her here only to disappoint her? You don’t seem to see what a low business it is, or how much worse it makes it that we have got to know her and find out what it means to her.”
“I can quite see why the Professor might have brought her into contact with us, but unfortunately he didn’t. As far as I can make out, he dropped her father finally because he would do nothing but shilly-shally instead of taking action, but the father was indiscreet enough to let Eirene know about the offers that had been made him. She takes action on her own account, in a way which would have been most embarrassing for the poor Professor but for the railway accident. In the meantime he has found you, and thinks no more about Eirene. But if the train had reached Therma all right, we should probably have separated at the station only to meet upon the Professor’s doorstep, and he would have had to decide point-blank between his rival candidates.”
“You seem to be enjoying the whole thing,” said Maurice indignantly. “It doesn’t occur to you how much more it is to Eirene than to us. We have only to go home again if the thing doesn’t come off, but it’s everything to her. She has cut herself off entirely from her friends and everybody in Scythia, and she has no money, and even her jewellery is gone. What is she to do?”
“It all depends on whether you care more for Eirene’s feelings or for what you felt to be your duty when we started,” said Zoe. “You have heard her talk; you can imagine what sort of ruler she would make if any possible concurrence of disasters drove the Powers in desperation to revive the Empire for her. You know, too, the lines on which you would work if the task fell to you. Besides, it’s not a question of feeling, but of right.”
“I always heard that women were hard on women, but I didn’t think you were like that.”
Zoe restrained her anger with an effort. “My dear Maurice,” she said impatiently, “you compel me to remind you that there is one very simple and obvious way of reconciling your rights and Eirene’s. It is still open to you.”
“What are you suggesting?” demanded Maurice.
“I suggest nothing,” Zoe replied, with a wooden face.
“You are suggesting that I should be a cad.”