Next day passed very slowly. The hours dragged by as she tried to occupy herself in her boudoir, first with playing with the child, and afterwards attending to her correspondence. She wrote no letter of farewell, as she deemed it wiser to take her leave without a word. Yet even in those last hours of her dignity as Crown Princess her thoughts were with the many charitable institutions of which she was patroness, and of how best she could benefit them by writing orders to the royal treasurer to give them handsome donations in her name.
She saw nothing of her husband. For aught she knew, those three grave-faced doctors might have already consulted with Veltman; they might have already declared her insane.
The afternoon passed, and alone she took her tea in English fashion, little Ignatia being brought to her for half an hour, as was the rule when she was without visitors. She had already been to Henriette’s room in secret, and had secured a black-stuff dress and packet, a long black travelling-coat and a felt canotte, all of which she had taken to her own room and hidden in her wardrobe.
When Allen took the child’s hand in order to lead her out, her mother glanced anxiously at the clock, and saw that it was half-past five.
“You can leave Ignatia here while you go to dinner,” she said in English; “she will be company for me. Tell the servants that I am not to be disturbed, even by the Countess de Trauttenberg.”
“Very well, your Highness,” was the Englishwoman’s answer, as bowing she left the room.
For another quarter of an hour she laughed and played with the child, then said,—
“Come, darling, let us go along to my room.” And taking her tiny hand, led her gently along the corridor to her own chamber. Once within she locked the door, and quickly throwing off her own things, assumed those of the maid which she took from the wardrobe. Then upon Ignatia she put a cheap dark coat of grey material and a dark-blue woollen cap which at once concealed the child’s golden curls. This concluded, she assumed a thick black lace veil, which well concealed her features, and around her throat she twisted a silken scarf. The collar of her coat, turned up, hid the colour of her hair, and her appearance was in a few moments well transformed. Indeed, she presented the exact prototype of her maid Henriette.
The jewels were in a cheap leather hand-bag, also the maid’s property. This she placed in her dressing-bag, and with it in her hand she took up little Ignatia, saying,—
“Hush, darling! don’t speak a word. You’ll promise mother, won’t you?”