“Do you suppose she is weak enough to believe the Doctor? Her Highness beat him at his own weapons; not the slightest sign of agitation on her part rewarded his ingenuity. All that you have to do is to help her to mislead this medical spy. It’s as easy as lying: and easier. The Doctor’s slander declares that you have a love-affair in the town. Take the hint—and astonish the Doctor by proving that he has hit on the truth.”
It was a hot day; the Baroness was beginning to get excited. She paused and fanned herself.
“Do I startle you?” she asked.
“You disgust me.”
She laughed.
“What a thick-headed man this is!” she said, pleasantly. “Must I put it more plainly still? Engage in what your English prudery calls a ‘flirtation,’ with some woman here—the lower in degree the better, or the Princess might be jealous—and let the affair be seen and known by everybody about the Court. Sly as he is, the Doctor is not prepared for that! At your age, and with your personal advantages, he will take appearances for granted; he will conclude that he has wronged you, and misinterpreted the motives of the Princess. The secret of her Highness’s weakness will be preserved—thanks to that sacrifice, Mr. Ernest, which you are so willing and so eager to make.”
It was useless to remonstrate with such a woman as this. I simply stated my own objection to her artfully devised scheme.
“I don’t wish to appear vain,” I said; “but the woman to whom I am to pay these attentions may believe that I really admire her—and it is just possible that she may honestly return the feeling which I am only assuming.”
“Well—and what then?”
“It’s hard on the woman, surely?”