That same evening the grand duke's valet knocked on the door leading
into the princess' apartments, and when the door opened he gravely
announced that his serene Highness desired to speak to the Princess
Hildegarde. It was a command. For some reason, known best to herself,
the princess chose to obey it.
"Say that I shall be there presently," she said, dismissing the valet.
As she entered her uncle's study--so called because of its dust-laden
bookshelves, though the duke sometimes disturbed their contents to
steady the leg of an unbalanced chair or table--he laid down his pipe
and dismissed his small company of card-players.
"I did not expect to see you so soon," he began. "A woman's curiosity
sometimes has its value. It takes little to arouse it, but a great
deal to allay it."
"You have not summoned me to make smart speeches, simply because I have
been educated up to them?"--truculently.
"No. I have not summoned you to talk smart, a word much in evidence in
Barscheit since your return from England. For once I am going to use a
woman's prerogative. I have changed my mind."
The Princess Hildegarde trembled with delight. She could put but one
meaning to his words.
"The marriage will not take place next month."
"Uncle!"--rapturously.
"Wait a moment,"--grimly. "It shall take place next week."
"I warn you not to force me to the altar," cried the girl, trembling
this time with a cold fury.
"My child, you are too young in spirit and too old in mind to be
allowed a gateless pasture. In harness you will do very well." He
took up his pipe and primed it. It _was_ rather embarrassing to look
the girl in the eye. "You shall wed Doppelkinn next week."
"You will find it rather embarrassing to drag me to the altar,"--evenly.
"You will not," he replied, "create a scandal of such magnitude. You
are untamable, but you are proud."
The girl remained silent. In her heart she knew that he had spoken
truly. She could never make a scene in the cathedral. But she was
determined never to enter it. She wondered if she should produce the
bogus certificate. She decided to wait and see if there were no other
loophole of escape. Old _Rotnäsig_? Not if she died!
When these two talked without apparent heat it was with unalterable
fixedness of purpose. They were of a common race. The duke was
determined that she should wed Doppelkinn; she was equally determined
that she should not. The gentleman with the algebraic bump may figure
this out to suit himself.
"Have you no pity?"