She repeated her question; her veiled face turned to his.
“Your Highness only a few moments ago expressed a desire not to discuss the matter,” he replied in a low, distinct voice.
“But I want to know,” she urged. “I must know. Tell me the truth. If you are my friend you will at least be frank with me when I command.”
“If you command, Princess, then I must obey, even with reluctance,” was his response. “Yes. I have heard some gossip. It is spoken openly in Court by the dames du palais, and is now being whispered among the people.”
She held her breath. Fortunately, it was dark, for she knew that her countenance had gone crimson.
“Well?” she asked. “And what do they say of me?”
“They, unfortunately, couple your Highness’s name with that of Count Leitolf, the chief of the private cabinet of his Majesty,” was his low answer.
“Yes,” she said in a toneless voice. “And what more?”
“They say that Major Scheel, attaché at the Embassy in Paris, recognised you driving with the Count in the Avenue de l’Opéra, when you were supposed to be at Aix-les-Bains with the little Princess Ignatia.”
“Yes. Go on.”