Then, as his wife waited, speechless, the Grand Duke gravely asked: "You,
too, have heard of this sad affair, Victoria? Ah, I perceive you have,
and that you come in haste to prevent it,--even to pursue these misguided
beings, if necessary, as the fact that you come already dressed for the
journey very eloquently shows. You are self-sacrificing, you possess a good
heart, Victoria."
"I did not know--" began the Grand Duchess.
"Until the last moment," the Grand Duke finished. "Eh, I comprehend. But
perhaps," he continued, hopefully, "it is not yet too late to bring them to
their senses."
And turning toward the Baroness and de Châteauroux, he said:
"I may not hinder your departure if you two in truth are swayed by love,
since to control that passion is immeasurably beyond the prerogative
of kings. Yet I beg you to reflect that the step you contemplate is
irrevocable. Yes, and to you, madame, whom I have long viewed with a
paternal affection--an emotion wholly justified by the age and rank for
which it has pleased Heaven to preserve me,--to you in particular I would
address my plea. If with an entire heart you love Monsieur de Châteauroux,
why, then--why, then, I concede that love is divine, and yonder carriage at
your disposal. But I beg you to reflect--"
"Believe me," said the Baroness, "we are heartily grateful for your
Highness' magnanimity. We may, I deduce, depart with your permission?"
"Oh, freely, if upon reflection--"
"I can reflect only when I am sitting down," declared the Baroness. She
handed her portmanteau to de Châteauroux, and stepped into the carriage.
And the Grand Duke noted that a coachman and two footmen had appeared, from
nowhere in particular.
"To you, Monsieur le Comte," his Highness now began, with an Olympian
frown, "I have naught to say. Under the cover of our hospitality you have
endeavored to steal away the fairest ornament of our Court; I leave you
to the pangs of conscience, if indeed you possess a conscience. But the
Baroness is unsophisticated; she has been misled by your fallacious
arguments and specious pretence of affection. She has evidently been
misled," he said to the Grand Duchess, kindly, "as any woman might be."
"As any woman might be!" his wife very feebly echoed.
"And I shall therefore," continued the Grand Duke, "do all within my power
to dissuade her from this ruinous step. I shall appeal to her better
nature, and not, I trust, in vain."
He advanced with dignity to the carriage, wherein the Baroness was seated.
"Amalia," he whispered, "you are an admirable actress. 'O wonderful,
wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after
that out of all whooping!"
The Baroness smiled.
"And it is now time," said his Highness, "for me to appeal to your better
nature. I shall do so in a rather loud voice, for I have prepared a most
virtuous homily that I am unwilling the Grand Duchess should miss. You
will at its conclusion be overcome with an appropriate remorse, and will
obligingly burst into tears, and throw yourself at my feet--pray remember
that the left is the gouty one,--and be forgiven. You will then be restored
to favor, while de Châteauroux drives off alone and in disgrace. Your plan
works wonderfully."
"It is true," the Baroness doubtfully said, "such was the plan."
"And a magnificent one," said the Grand Duke.
"But I have altered it, your Highness."
"And this alteration, Amalia--?"
"Involves a trip to Vienna."
"Not yet, Amalia. We must wait."
"Oh, I could never endure delays," said the Baroness, "and, since you
cannot accompany me, I am going with Monsieur de Châteauroux."
The Grand Duke grasped the carriage door.
"Preposterous!" he cried.
"But you have given your consent," the Baroness protested, "and in the
presence of the Grand Duchess."
"Which," said the Grand Duke, "was part of our plan."
"Indeed, your Highness," said the Baroness, "it was a most important part.
You must know," she continued, with some diffidence, "that I have the
misfortune to love Monsieur de Châteauroux."
"Who is in love with Victoria."
"I have the effrontery to believe," said the Baroness, "that he is, in
reality, in love with me."
"Especially after hearing him last night," the Grand Duke suggested.
"That scene, your Highness, we had carefully rehearsed--oh, seven or eight
times! Personally, I agreed with your Highness that the quotation from
Theocritus was pedantic, but Philippe insisted on it, you conceive--"
The Grand Duke gazed meditatively upon the Baroness, who had the grace to
blush.
"Then it was," he asked, "a comedy for my benefit?"
"You would never have consented--" she began. But the Grand Duke's
countenance, which was slowly altering to a greenish pallor, caused her to
pause.
"You will get over it in a week, Louis," she murmured, "and you will find
other--baronesses."
"Oh, very probably!" said his Highness, and he noted with pleasure that he
spoke quite as if it did not matter. "Nevertheless, this was a despicable
trick to play upon the Grand Duchess."
"Yet I do not think the Grand Duchess will complain," said the Baroness von
Altenburg.
And it was as though a light broke on the Grand Duke. "You planned all this
beforehand?" he inquired.
"Why, precisely, your Highness."
"And de Châteauroux helped you?"
"In effect, yes, your Highness."
"And the Grand Duchess knew?"
"The Grand Duchess suggested it, your Highness, the moment that she knew
you thought of eloping."
"And I, who tricked Gaston--!"
"Louis," said the Baroness von Altenburg, in a semi-whisper, "your wife
is one of those persons who cling to respectability like a tippler to his
bottle. To her it is absolutely nothing how many women you may pursue--or
conquer--so long as you remain here under her thumb, to be exhibited, in
fair sobriety, upon the necessary public occasions. I pity you, my Louis."
And she sighed with real compassion.
He took possession of one gloved hand. "At the bottom of your heart," his
Highness said, irrelevantly, "you like me better than you do Monsieur de
Châteauroux."
"I find you the more entertaining company, to be sure--But what a woman
most wants is to be loved. If I touch Philippe's hand for, say, the
millionth part of a second longer than necessity compels, he treads for the
remainder of the day above meteors; if yours--why, you at most admire my
fingers. No doubt you are a connoisseur of fingers and such-like trifles;
but, then, a woman does not wish to be admired by a connoisseur so much as
she hungers to be adored by a maniac. And accordingly, I prefer my stupid
Philippe."
"You are wise," the Grand Duke estimated, "I remember long ago ... in
Poictesme yonder...."
"I loathe her," the Bareness said, with emphasis. "Nay, I am ignorant as to
who she was--but O my Louis! had you accorded me a tithe of the love you
squandered on that abominable dairymaid I would have followed you not only
to Vienna--"
He raised his hand, "There are persons yonder in whom the proper emotions
are innate; let us not shock them. No, I never loved you, I suppose; I
merely liked your way of talking, liked your big green eyes, liked your
lithe young body.... Hé, and I like you still, Amalia. So I shall not play
the twopenny despot. God be with you, my dear."
He had seen tears in those admirable eyes before he turned his back to her.
"Monsieur de Châteauroux," he called, "I find the lady is adamant. I wish
you a pleasant journey." He held open the door of the carriage for de
Châteauroux to enter.
"You will forgive us, your Highness?" asked the latter.
"You will forget?" murmured the Baroness.
"I shall do both," said the Grand Duke. "Bon voyage, mes enfants!"
And with a cracking of whips the carriage drove off.
"Victoria," said the plump little Grand Duke, in admiration, "you are a
remarkable woman. I think that I will walk for a while in the gardens, and
meditate upon the perfections of my wife."