“It grows out of the first, madame, and I will therefore ask permission to defer it for a moment. Your Royal Highness will recollect that when we last met I had the misfortune to differ from you with regard to the affairs of Thracia?”
The Princess remembered Prince Soudaroff’s hint, and trembled in spite of herself. Had her old enemy come to announce the downfall of her dearest hopes? She inclined her head slightly in answer to the question, but said nothing.
“You favoured a certain policy, madame, which I opposed. Your advice prevailed. I bowed to circumstances, and quitted Thracia. I have now no wish to disturb the settlement then arrived at, although I think your Royal Highness will perceive presently that I could easily do so.”
“I don’t understand you, Count. Pray do not speak in riddles.”
“To speak plainly, madame, the King of Thracia has been seized with a violent—we will hope only evanescent—passion for my niece.”
“Surely you forget that his Majesty is betrothed to my daughter, Count?”
“Say rather, madame, that his Majesty has forgotten it, since this morning he directed me to make formal proposals to my brother for his daughter’s hand.”
“Oh, really, Count, this is too absurd! His Majesty must be out of his mind.”
“The derangement is merely temporary, madame. My niece regards it in that light, I assure you. She was horrified by the King’s proposal.”
“I congratulate you on the good sense of the young lady, Count.”