"That is not all," replied the Duchess with truly Roman pride, "this very evening--and," she interposed, glancing at the clock, "it is already a quarter past eleven--this very evening, his Most Serene Highness will send word to the Marquise Raversi that he advises her to go into the country to recuperate from the fatigues which she must have suffered from a certain trial which she was discussing in her salon early in the evening." The Prince strode up and down his cabinet, like a madman. "Did one ever see such a woman?" he exclaimed. "She is lacking in respect for me."
The Duchess replied with perfect grace:--
"I have never in my life dreamed of lacking respect for his Most Serene Highness; His Highness has had the extreme condescension to say that he was speaking as a friend to friends. What is more, I have not the smallest desire to remain in Parma," she added, glancing at the Count with the last degree of contempt. This glance decided the Prince, who up to that moment had been quite uncertain, notwithstanding that his words had seemed to imply a promise; he had a fine contempt for words.
There were still a few more words exchanged; but at last Count Mosca received the order to write the gracious note solicited by the Duchess. He omitted the phrase "this unjust procedure shall have no consequence in the future." "It is sufficient," said the Count to himself, "if the Prince promises not to sign the sentence which is to be presented to him." The Prince thanked him by a glance, as he signed.
The Count made a great mistake; the Prince was wearied and would have signed the whole. He thought that he was getting out of the scene well, and the whole affair was dominated, in his eyes, by the thought--"If the Duchess leaves, I shall find my court a bore inside of a week." The Count observed that his master corrected the date, and substituted that of the next day. He looked at the clock; it indicated almost midnight. The minister saw, in this altered date, nothing more than a pedantic desire to afford proof of exactitude and good government. As to the exile of the Marquise Raversi, the Prince did not even frown; the Prince had a special weakness for exiling people.
"General Fontana!" he cried, half opening the door.
The General appeared, with such an astonished and curious a face that a glance of amusement passed between the Duchess and the Count, and this glance established peace.
"General Fontana," said the Prince, "you are to take my carriage, which is waiting under the colonnade; you will go to the house of Mme. Raversi, and have yourself announced: if she is in bed, you will add that you are my representative, and when admitted to her chamber, you will say precisely these words, and no others:--'Mme. la Marquise Raversi, his Most Serene Highness requires that you shall depart before eight o'clock to-morrow morning, for your chateau of Valleja. His Highness will notify you when you may return to Parma.'"
The Prince's eyes sought those of the Duchess, but the latter, omitting the thanks which he had expected, made him an extremely respectful reverence, and rapidly left the room.
"What a woman!" said the Prince, turning towards Count Mosca.