Volume III Part 73 (1/2)
The princess had scarcely looked at me for a second, but that look made me feel the most violent, the most profound emotion; I felt my cheeks on fire; I cast down my eyes, and remained some minutes without daring to raise them again toward the princess. When I ventured to lift them, she was talking in a low tone with the Archd.u.c.h.ess Sophia, who appeared to listen with the most affectionate interest. Liszt having put an interval of some moments between the two pieces he was to play, the grand duke took advantage of that moment to express to him his admiration in the most gracious manner.
The prince, as he turned to his place, perceived me, made a sign of the head to me with the greatest kindness, and said some words to the archd.u.c.h.ess in pointing me out to her. The latter, after having looked at me for a moment, turned toward the grand duke, who could not help smiling as he replied to her and spoke to his daughter. The Princess Amelia seemed to be embarra.s.sed, for she again blushed. I was in torments; unfortunately, etiquette did not permit me to quit the spot where I was until the concert was over, which was beginning. Two or three times I stole a glance at the Princess Amelia; she seemed pensive and thoughtful; my heart was oppressed.
I suffered a slight feeling of uneasiness, as if I had been the cause of the pain she felt. Undoubtedly the grand duke had been asking her, jestingly, if she found any resemblance to the portrait of her cousin of the olden times; and, in her ingenuousness, she perhaps reproached hers. If for not having told her father that she had before recognized me. When the concert was over, I followed the aid-de-camp. He led me toward the grand duke, who advanced a few steps to meet me, took me cordially by the arm, and, approaching the Archd.u.c.h.ess Sophia, said to her:
”I beg of your royal highness the permission to present to you my cousin, Prince Henry of Herkausen-Oldenzaal.”
”I have already met the prince at Vienna, and I am happy to see him again here,” replied the archd.u.c.h.ess, before whom I made a profound bow.
”My dear Amelia,” continued the prince, addressing himself to his daughter, ”I present to you Prince Henry, your cousin; he is son of Prince Paul, one of my most venerable friends, whom I much regret not to see to-day at Gerolstein.”
”Be so kind, sir, as to inform Prince Paul that I share deeply in my father's regrets, for I shall be always happy to become acquainted with his friends,” replied my cousin, with a simplicity full of grace.
I had not before heard the sound of Princess Amelia's voice; imagine, my friend, the sweetest, the most delicious, the most harmonious tones; in fine, one of those accents which cause the most delicate chords of the soul to vibrate.
”I hope, my dear Henry, that you will remain some time with your aunt, to whom I am greatly attached. I respect her as a mother, as you know,” said the grand duke kindly to me. ”Come often to see us, familiarly, in the morning, at three o'clock. If we are going out, you can join us in our walk; you know I have always loved you, because you have one of the most n.o.ble hearts.”
”I do not know how to express to your royal highness my grat.i.tude for the kind reception you condescend to bestow on me.”
”To prove to me your grat.i.tude, then,” said the prince, smiling, ”ask your cousin for the second contra-dance; the first belongs of right to the archduke.”
”Will your highness grant me this favor?” said I to the Princess Amelia, bowing before her.
”Call each other simply cousins, after the good old German custom,” said the grand duke gayly; ”ceremony is not proper among relatives!”
”Will my cousin do me the honor to dance this contra-dance with me?”
”Yes, cousin,” replied the Princess Amelia.
CHAPTER III.
PRINCE HENRY D'HERKAUSEN-OLDENZAAL TO COUNT MAXIMILIAN KAMINETZ.
”OLDENZAAL, August 25th, 1841.
I can hardly tell you, my friend, how pleased, and, at the same time, pained, I was at the fatherly cordiality of the grand duke; the confidence he testified toward me, the affectionate kindness with which he induced his daughter and myself to subst.i.tute for the formula of etiquette these family terms of a most tender intimacy, all penetrated me with grat.i.tude; I reproached myself so much the more bitterly for the fatal attraction of a love which ought not, or could not be agreeable to the prince. I have promised myself, it is true (and I have not failed in this resolution), never to utter a word which might lead my cousin to suspect the love that I was nouris.h.i.+ng; but I feared that my emotion, my glances, might betray me.
In spite of myself, however, this sentiment, silent and concealed as it must be, seemed guilty to me. I had time to make these reflections while the Princess Amelia was dancing the first contra-dance with the Archduke Stanislaus. Here, as everywhere, dancing is no more than a kind of march which follows the measure of the orchestra; nothing could show to more advantage the serious grace of my cousin's carriage. With a happiness mingled with anxiety, I awaited the moment for that conversation that the liberty of the ball would allow me to hold with her. I was sufficiently master of myself to conceal my embarra.s.sment, as I went to seek her with the Marchioness d'Harville. Thinking of the circ.u.mstances of the portrait, I expected to see the Princess Amelia share my embarra.s.sment. I was not mistaken; I recall, almost word for word, our first conversation; let me relate it to you, my friend:
”Will your highness permit me,” said I to her, ”to say always my cousin, as the grand duke has authorized me?”
”Certainly, my cousin,” she kindly answered me; ”I am always happy to obey my father.”
”And I am still more proud of this familiarity, my cousin; I have learned through my aunt to know you, that is to say, to appreciate you.”
”My father has also spoken to me of you, cousin, and what will perhaps astonish you,” added she, timidly, ”I know you already, if I may say so, by sight. The lady superior of St. Hermangilda, for whom I have the most affectionate respect, one day showed to us, to my father and myself, a picture.”
”Where I was represented as a page of the sixteenth century?”
”Yes, cousin, and my father even used the little deceit of telling me that this portrait was of one of our relations of the olden time, adding such kind words toward this cousin of former days, that our family must be happy to number him among our relations of the present day.”