“Nor the prime minister?”
“Not a word. When I received your letter, I was on the point of asking you for a private interview. I have a favour—a service—to implore of your Highness.”
“It is granted before it is asked. I place my whole influence and power at your feet, charming Countess.”
“A thousand thanks, illustrious prince. You have already shown me so much kindness, that I venture to ask you to make a communication to my brother, the Grand Duke, which I dare not make myself. I want you to inform him that I have been for three months privately married to Count Reinsberg.”
“Good heavens!” cried Maximilian, falling into the arm-chair in which Pippinstir had recently reclined. On recovering from the shock, the prince rose again to his feet.
“’Tis well, madam,” he said, in a faint voice. “’Tis well!”
And he left the summer-house.
After reading Baron Pippinstir’s letter, Prince Maximilian fell a-thinking. It was not the Grand Duke’s fault if the Countess of Rosenthal did not ascend the throne of Hanau. There was an insurmountable obstacle. Then the precipitate departure of the ambassador of Saxe-Tolpelhausen was an affront which demanded instant vengeance. And the Grand Duke Leopold was a most estimable sovereign, skilful, energetic, and blessed with wise councillors; the Princess Wilhelmina liked him, and thought nothing could compare, for pleasantness, with his lively court, where all the men were amiable, and all the women charming. These various motives duly weighed, the Prince made up his mind, and next day was signed the marriage-contract of the Grand Duke of Niesenstein and the Princess Wilhelmina of Hanau.
Three days later the marriage itself was celebrated.