Part 51 (1/2)
The Archbishop sat silent for a while. ”How long have you known Prince Max?” he inquired at last.
”About six months.”
”Is not that rather a short time?”
”Yes.”
”For so important a decision, I mean.”
”Yes; it is, I know.”
”For learning a man's character, shall I say?”
”Some characters one learns more quickly than others. I know him, papa, better than I do you.”
”That may well be, youth does not easily understand age. And so my question remains: Do you know him well enough to marry him?”
”I want to marry him,” she said.
”You know there are objections?”
”Oh, yes.”
”Very serious ones.”
”Yes, I told him; I said it was quite impossible. He said he could get the King's consent. I did not think so: I felt sure, indeed, that he could not. But to-day he came and showed it to me in writing--a promise made conditionally more than two months ago.”
”Conditionally?”
”Yes; it named a date. That is why until to-day there was nothing that I could tell you.”
”Not even the fact that he had asked you to marry him?”
”I could not wish that to be known, if nothing was to come if it--not by any one.”
”It would have been better, my child.”
”No, papa; why should you, or any one, know what I had had to give up?”
”Of course, it would have been painful; that I can understand.”
”I can smile at it now,” she said; ”but at the time it was terrible! For I found, then, how much I loved him.”
The Archbishop withheld all speech for a moment, then said tenderly--
”I am very sorry for you, my child.”
”Ah, but there is no need to be now!” she cried joyfully.
Once more he paused; then he repeated the words.