“Not exactly ashamed,” said Helene seriously, “but terrified.”
“Hadn’t you better confess? My mind is duly prepared for horrors.”
“If you’ll call me Little Nell, I will.”
“Little schemer, I think. Well, Little Nell?”
Helene put her hand through his arm, and clasped his wrist tightly. “It seemed such a splendid idea when it came to me first. It was the very evening that we were—engaged, you know, and I was so happy I could not sleep, and rather frightened, too, because mamma had been sitting by me and crying, and saying all the relations would be so angry. Then I remembered that the Emperor Sigismund was hunting near Neuburg this week, and I thought I would write to him, and get him on our side. And I did.”
“How frightfully enterprising! And what does he say?”
“There hasn’t been time for an answer yet. But last night it seemed to me that it would have been so much better not to write to him until—until everything was over, you know. And the answer might come to-day, if he wrote at once. And I am so frightened. I don’t know what to do.”
“It strikes me you’re much too independent for an engaged young woman. You deserve a good scolding. Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I thought it would be such a nice surprise. I never imagined he might be angry, somehow. Please scold me, Nym. Then perhaps I shall not be so frightened.”
“I don’t think there’s much need for me to scold you,” said Usk gravely, rising to look down the path which led to the Lauterbach plateau from the lower world. He and Helene were sitting on the roof of the Moorish kiosk which was one of the less bizarre erections scattered about the gardens, and commanded one of the widest views. “There are people coming up, Lenchen, and one of them looks like——”