"And now! To do it now! When everything is ready!" She gave a pretty little gasp. "And go back with mother to Bartenstein!" she went on, shaking her head in horror. "How could you imagine it? Fancy Bartenstein again!"
Evidently I was preferable to Bartenstein again, to the narrow humdrum life there. No poles, no flags, no illuminations, no cheers, no dignity! Diamonds even scarce and rare! I tried to take heart. It was something to be better than Bartenstein again.
"And what would they think of me? Oh, it's too absurd! But of course you were joking?"
"Oh, not more than usual, Elsa. You might have found me even more tiresome than Bartenstein."
"Nonsense! It would always be better here than at Bartenstein."
Clearly there was no question in her mind on this point. Forstadt and I—let me share, since I may not engross the credit—were much better than going back to Bartenstein.
She was looking at me with an uneasy, almost suspicious air.
"What made you ask that question?" she said abruptly.
I looked round the room. Among the many groups in talk there were faces turned toward us, regarding us with a discreet good-humoured amusement. The King forgot his duties and talked with his lady-love. Every moment buttressed the reputation of our love match. Let it be so; it was best. Yet the sham was curiously unpleasant to me.
"Why did you ask me that question, Augustin? You had a reason?"
