“My dear child, pray don’t cavil. I mean, of course, that I have taken care you should have no chance of falling in love with any one but the man you are to marry.”
“But he doesn’t love me.”
“You are becoming a little tiresome, Lida. There were unfortunate circumstances which obliged me to hasten on your betrothal before Michael had perceived the nature of his feeling for you, and unhappily he resents being bound, as he considers it. But I have already said that you will be able to set things right as soon as you are married, if you go the right way to work.”
“But, mamma, you say you were right in disobeying your father because it was for your lover’s sake. If I had a lover, mamma——?” She came forward a little with clasped hands, and her eyes rested entreatingly on her mother’s face. The Princess laughed coldly.
“Don’t imagine impossibilities, my dear child. You have no lover—could not have one without my knowledge, and I have no intention of allowing you such a luxury. You will marry Michael two months hence, and I shall write to him to-day to make arrangements. The letter will take some time, for I must be careful how I put things. That equerry of his had better wait until to-morrow before returning, Czartoriski and he must amuse one another.”
“We were thinking of a ride this afternoon,” suggested Princess Lida meekly. Her mother nodded assent.
“That will do very well. By the bye, Lida, if you should come across Count Mortimer, you need not speak to him. Bow, of course, but nothing more.”
“Yes, mamma. Has he done anything?” Princess Lida’s eyes were dancing.
“Count Mortimer has thought fit to lose sight of the difference between his position and mine, and address me in a very strange way. That is all.”
It was enough for Princess Lida, who never dreamt of regarding Cyril as anything but an unhappy victim of her mother’s charms. She told the story with great glee to Mlle. Delacroix, and Mlle. Delacroix retailed it to a compatriot who was visiting the baths. Since every one at Ludwigsbad takes a childlike and unabashed interest in every one else’s affairs, it was known by the evening from one end of the little town to the other that Count Mortimer had conceived a romantic adoration for the Princess of Dardania—and had declared it to its object! Coming so soon after the revelations put forth by Dr Texelius, the story met with instant and universal acceptance, and there were only a few people who remarked that Count Mortimer must have been playing for very high stakes when he allowed himself to appear such a fool. Mansfield had been spending the afternoon at one of the shooting-galleries, where the gilded youth of both sexes were wont to consume much valuable time in massacring little wooden soldiers by means of air-guns. Here he heard the tale, and returned to the hotel with a settled gloom on his countenance such as even the fact of Philippa’s departure had been insufficient to produce.