“Yes, I suppose what Your Majesty says is, alas! too true. Ladies of the blood-royal are forbidden freedom, love and happiness. And when one of them happens to break the iron bonds of conventionality, then scandal quickly results; the Press overflows with it.”
“In this case scandal would already have resulted had you not acted as promptly as you did,” His Majesty said. “Where is that lad Geoffrey Hamborough now?” asked the autocrat suddenly.
“Living on his father’s estate in Yorkshire,” I replied. “I hope I have been able to put an end to that fatal folly; but with a girl of the Grand Duchess’s type one can never be too certain.”
“Ah! the mischievous little minx!” exclaimed the Emperor with a kindly smile. “I’ve watched, and seen how cunning she is—and how she has cleverly misled even me. Well, she must alter, Trewinnard, she must alter—or she must be sent away to the Caucasus.”
“Where she would have her freedom, and probably flirt more outrageously than ever,” I ventured to remark.
“You seem to regard her as hopeless,” he said, looking sharply into my eyes as he leaned back in his chair.
“Not entirely hopeless, Sire, only as a most interesting character study.”
“I have been speaking to her father this morning, and I have suggested sending her to Paris, or, perhaps, to London; there to live incognito under the guardianship of some responsible middle-aged person, until she can settle down. At present she flirts with every man she meets, and I am greatly concerned about her.”
“Every man is ready to flirt with Her Imperial Highness—first, because of her position, and, secondly, because of her remarkable beauty,” I assured him.
“You think her beautiful—eh, Trewinnard?”