“No, no. You are not yourself to-day,” he said. “You—a Royal Princess—contemplating suicide! It’s absurd! Think of the terrible scandal—of your family, of the Royal House.”
“The scandal would be greater, if I dared to live and face exposure.”
“But why face exposure?”
“There is no other way. Last night, just as I was within an ace of releasing myself from the terrible bondage, you entered and discovered the disgraceful truth. Ghelardi, too, knows it. He will tell His Majesty—for he hates both you and I, as you well know.”
“Your Highness may rest absolutely assured that he will say no word to the King—he dare not.”
“Dare not? Why? Ghelardi will dare anything.”
“He will not dare to utter a syllable regarding the events of last night,” said Waldron. “Therefore this affair remains between you and me.”
And he looked her straight in the face, much pained at that tragic interview.
“Be frank with me, Lola—do!” he urged after a moment’s pause. “Tell me the real truth, and I may yet be able to save the situation.”
“No,” she cried, wringing her hands frantically. “You cannot. I have come to bid you good-bye—you, my good friend. Ah! I have been too foolish; I have disregarded all good counsels, and have gone down—down to my death! Yet only; because I have loved. Had I not had the misfortune to have been born a princess I should have loved and been happy. But, alas! happiness is impossible for me, unfortunate as I am—only death—death!”