“A Schwarzwald-Molzau!” cried Lord Caerleon, but his wife broke in—
“Yes, of course. We saw her engagement to the Grand-Duke Ivan, and Usk was quite unhappy about it. He said the man was a brute.”
“Well, it was broken off about a week ago, but I suppose the news has not got into the English papers yet. That is the young lady.”
“But, Cyril, I am quite sure Usk has never thought of her in that way.”
“It’s just possible he might learn to do it.”
“But why should he? Oh, you can’t mean that she has fallen in love with him, and let other people see it, when he hasn’t said a word to her?”
“Why that tone of deep disgust? I seem to remember a young lady once whom I only dissuaded with the greatest difficulty from sending a refusal, in writing, to a man who had never proposed to her.”
“Unfair, Cyril!” cried Lord Caerleon. “Nadia couldn’t help knowing that I cared for her.”
“I can’t stand up against the two of you, that’s certain. Well, Nadia, let me tell you the circumstances, and I think you will acquit poor little Princess Lenchen of any worse crimes than a romantic disposition, and an ingenuous readiness to take Usk on trust on the strength of a childlike adoration for his uncle.”
“Of course I don’t wonder at her falling in love with Usk,” said Usk’s mother.