“It will not sadden me, if I can help you. See, you have misunderstood Miss Steinherz, have you not? She conceals her love, perhaps, she is shy and proud? Perhaps even she coquets with you; she shows kindness to another suitor for the sake of teasing you? That is foolish, it is even wrong; but the heart is there, and loves you. You do not understand women very much, perhaps? So often they think it undignified, unwise, to let the love they truly have be seen. That is it, is it not? not—not what you say. A good woman could not act in that way, and she must be a good woman if you have chosen her to love out of all the world.”
“I wish I could think so!” said Usk, in a tone of such misery that Helene’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, if only I could help you!” she said. “I can only pray—pray that the good God will show you her heart full of love for you, that you may learn how you have misjudged her. Think how you will be obliged to humble yourself before her when you discover the truth!”
“I shouldn’t mind that,” said Usk, with the ghost of a smile.
“I’m afraid our tea-party won’t add very largely to the profits of the refreshment-stall,” said the Grand-Duchess. “I think we have eaten one cake of five centimes between us. Lenchen, darling, you are over-tired. Eat one of these cream-cakes, to please me.”
“I can’t, mamma. I am not hungry.”
“I can give them a five-franc piece, if you like, madame,” suggested Usk, “and ask them to add the change to their profits.”
“Ah, that is a good idea. And if you see our chasseur, Lord Usk, perhaps you will kindly tell him to call up the carriage.”
Neither Queen Ernestine nor Usk spoke much as they returned to the hotel, for both were thinking of the conversation at the tea-table; but as soon as Usk had put down his parcels, and betaken himself to Nicholson’s rooms, the Queen turned impulsively to her husband.
“Oh, Cyril,” she said, “they are going to sacrifice that poor child!”