“You had me do it,” objected Félicia.
“And if I did, I’ll help you see the thing through. It’s not what you expected, maybe, but it’s payable gold, and you won’t do better any other place.”
“Now that’s what I don’t see.”
“Well, just listen. Put it you act the way you want to, and go right back to the States. Michael will get a divorce, and you’ll have to stick over there, for you won’t be received at any Court in Europe.”
“Well, I guess America’s good enough for me,” but the tone was less resolute. Maimie seized upon the hint of wavering.
“Is that so? How will you feel to go back to old times after what you’ve got accustomed to these days? Félicia Steinherz, you can’t do it. Just at present you’re a queen, whatever that’s worth, and I’d advise you stick to the position. Maybe you’ll choose to do all of the nice things you’ve been hearing about, maybe not, but any way, you’re much more likely to have a good time than if you take your separation.”
“Well,” said Félicia meditatively, “that is so. I’ll go back to Bellaviste right away.”
“Now? at once?” cried Queen Ernestine, bewildered by this sudden success. “But not quite so suddenly,” she pleaded, after a moment’s astonished pause. “It would excite remark, and deprive Michael of the pleasure he would feel in coming to welcome you. Come back with us to Drinitza, and let him meet you there.”
“I guess I will. I’d like to meet that little Helene of yours, too, and have her see what a happy couple Michael and I are.”
“Félicia, you will not go back to him in this spirit? What possible hope of future happiness can there be——?”