Part 3 (1/2)
”They gave it to me. You only said for the gentleman who dined with your friends.”
”Then you read it?” she asked, blus.h.i.+ng.
”Yes. How I wish I were the rightful owner of it!”
”Why didn't he come?” she asked again.
”He's going to write and explain.”
”And you really came because----”
”May I tell you already? Or have you guessed already?”
She blushed again.
”I don't see what else the prince could do, you know,” she said. ”He ought, of course, never to have gone to the ball at all.”
”Perhaps not,” I answered; ”but I suppose he was tempted.”
”Do you think very badly of me?”
”I should think you perfection if----”
”Well?”
”You would give me some breakfast.”
”Oh, what a shame! You're starving! And after all you have done! Come, I'll wait on you.”
My meal was very pleasant. The lady was charming; she satisfied every feeling I had, except curiosity. She was clearly English; equally clearly she was involved with some great people on the Continent. I gathered that the baron had insulted her, when she was with the prince, and the latter could not, whether for state or domestic reasons, espouse the quarrel. So far I got, but no farther.
”What a debt I owe you!” she said, as she led the way after breakfast to the top of a little tower. An awning was spread overhead, and armchairs on the floor. A cool breeze blew, and stirred her hair.
”I am more than paid!”
”Fancy, if you had been hurt!”
”Better I than the colonel!” I suggested.
She darted a smile at me.
”Oh, well,” she said, ”you came, and he didn't. I like you best.”
It was all very charming, but time was flying, and I began to plan a graceful exit.
”You make it hard to go,” I said.
”Yes, I suppose we must go as soon as possible. Herr Vooght said at two o'clock.”
I was startled. Delightful as she was, I hardly reckoned on her being one of the party.