DOMINICA—She really was a beautiful girl. But politics, you know. And
when King Edward left Marienbad that ended all hope of an alliance with
England. Whereupon the English princess began studying the Bulgarian
language. With an eye to the Bulgarian crown prince.
HYACINTH—What did Albert do?
DOMINICA—We sent him on a trip into Africa to heal his broken heart.
BEATRICE—And Patricia learned to speak Bulgarian.
DOMINICA—Fluently. But nothing came of that either. She was married in
Sweden to Prince Olaf. Now, with all her Bulgarian erudition, she lives
among the Swedes. I hear that the Bulgarian minister to Stockholm is
delirious with joy because she always speaks Bulgarian with him. And out
of that, between Sweden and Bulgaria ... came an enormous trade in pig
iron. To this day the good Bulgarians do not dream to what they owe all
that iron.
BEATRICE—And don’t you know why nothing came of the Bulgarian marriage?
DOMINICA—I understand that the Serbs thwarted Delcassé’s schemes.
BEATRICE—That is the official explanation. The real reason is more
interesting. Patricia’s family sent Arthur and the Bulgarian court sent
Philip for a final conference. As you know, Arthur can’t hear a thing
with his left ear, and Philip is totally deaf in his right ear. At the
court dinner, where the conference was to take place, they were seated
side by side, in the order that rank and etiquette demanded, so that each
had his deaf ear turned to the other. But neither of them realized it.
In the beginning each spoke a few words, but receiving no answer, became
offended and said no more. Both of them went home in a rage and that is
how Patricia came to be a Swedish princess, and why there is so much pig
iron in Bulgaria to-day.
HYACINTH—I never heard that story before. And so, Dominica, you are
taking our little girl away from us.
DOMINICA—Yes, Karl. Is she still asleep?
BEATRICE—No. She went riding early this morning.
DOMINICA—When can I see her?
BEATRICE—[_In a panic._] When can you see her?... Ah-h-h ... God! [_She
is greatly distressed; presses her hand to her forehead._] My head....
Oh! [_Sways weakly._]
HYACINTH—[_Forcibly._] My dear, I beg of you, I sincerely urge you not to
be ill; I forbid you to be ill.
DOMINICA—What’s the matter with you, dear?
BEATRICE—It started last night ... at supper ... a sudden weak spell....
HYACINTH—It was very inconsiderate of you.