“Oh, just make things uncomfortable a little—nothing more.”
“But if Usk will just stay away four or five days, there’ll be a good deal more,” was Maimie’s mental comment.
“Michael,” said Queen Ernestine to her son four days later, when she had succeeded after many vain attempts in finding him alone, “don’t you think you are paying rather too much attention to Miss Steinherz?”
She spoke timidly, anticipating the black frown which gathered at once upon King Michael’s brow, as he bestowed a mental curse upon Félicia’s methods. It was not in her nature to be content with a secret adoration. The King might waylay her in the garden if he chose, or look for her in her favourite nook in the picture-gallery, and enjoy her society until Maimie, posted judiciously near at hand, felt it her duty to interrupt them, but he must not attempt to hide his chains in public. Hence King Michael’s relations had the pleasure of seeing him dancing attendance upon the whims of a languid beauty, who had vouchsafed to lay aside much of her sharpness of tongue, but still betrayed no delight in his attentions. Even Usk could not have desired more absolute unconsciousness of her conquest than Félicia exhibited.
“Have you ever known me forget my position?” King Michael asked at last, when his mother’s face had grown more and more anxious.
“Never,” she answered, recalling many memories at once humorous and pathetic.
“Then rest assured that I never shall.”
“But, dear,” urged the Queen, “in that case would it not be as well to return to London? It looks—mind, I only say it looks—as if you were taking advantage of Usk’s prolonged absence to rob him of his bride’s affections, and you would not wish to do that.”
“Count Mortimer has already given me a pretty strong hint to go, but I will not leave my work undone.”
“But he told me to-day that it was all finished.”