“That’s just it. But if I went to England and lived again as Miss Natalia Gottorp, nobody would know who I am, and I could have a really splendid time. Here,” she cried, “all the glitter and etiquette of Court life stifle me. I’ve been bored to death on the tour round the Empire, but couldn’t you try and induce the Emperor to let me go back to England? Do, Uncle Colin, there’s a dear. A word from the Emperor, and father would let me go in a moment. I wish poor mother were alive. She would soon let me go, I know.”
“And what would you do in England if you went back?”
“Why, I’d have my old governess, Miss West—the one I had at Strelna—to live with me, and I’d be ever so happy. I’d take a house on the sea-front at Eastbourne, so as to be near the old college, and see the girls. Try what you can do with Uncle Alexander, won’t you? there’s a dear old uncle,” she added, in her most persuasive tones.
“Well,” I said, with some show of reluctance, “if I succeed, you will be responsible to me, remember. No flirtations.”
“I promise,” she said. “Here’s my hand,” and she put her tiny white-gloved hand into mine.
“And if I heard of any affectionate meetings I should put down my foot at once.”
“Yes, that’s agreed,” she exclaimed, with enthusiasm. “At once.”
“And I should, perhaps, want you to help me in England,” I added slowly, looking into her pretty face the while.
“Help you, in what way?” she asked.
“At present, I hardly know. But if I wanted assistance might I count on you?”