“Oh, that’s the reason, is it?” said Prigson, with an air of simple faith. “I’m sorry to hear it—I’ve just come to look for a wife at the Hague.”
“For Cousin Cornelius, uncle?” asked Leida. “I suppose he’s about twenty now, isn’t he?”
“Good for nothing, girl! And have you heard, Van Arlen?” he continued, turning to his brother-in-law.
“What?” asked the latter.
“Oh! you know well enough,—you’re only pretending, because you want to make out it’s a State secret.”
“On my word, as an honest man——”
“That’s worth something, as we know. So you haven’t heard? Next week your Minister’s going to resign.”
“Prigson!”
“The day before yesterday, it was brought before the Cabinet Council, and His Majesty made as little difficulty over the matter as I should have done. He’ll get the Grand Cross now, and perhaps be Minister of State—but you’ll be rid of him!”
Van Arlen sat looking at his brother-in-law, without moving a muscle of his face, and the girls felt convinced that papa knew just as much about the business as Prigson.