"Surely she must see the urgency of quick action in this matter of ours," cried Anguish half angrily. "We are not dogs to be kicked out of the castle. We have a right to be treated fairly--"
"We cannot censure the Princess, Harry," said Lorry, calmly. "We have come because we would befriend her, and she sees fit to reject our good offices. There is but one thing left for us to do--depart as we came."
"But I don't like it a little bit," growled the other.
"If you only knew, Mr. Anguish, you would not be so harsh and unjust," remonstrated the lady, warmly. Turning to Lorry she said: "She asked me to hand you this and to bid you retain it as a token of her undying esteem."
She handed him a small, exquisite miniature of the Princess, framed in gold inlaid with rubies. He took it dumbly in his fingers, but dared not look at the portrait it contained. With what might have seemed disrespect he dropped the treasure into his coat pocket.
"Tell her I shall always retain it as a token' of her--esteem," he said. "And now may I ask whether she handed my note to her uncle, the Count?"
The Countess blushed in a most unaccountable manner.
"Not while I was with her," she said, recovering the presence of mind she apparently had lost.
"She destroyed it, I presume," said he, laughing harshly.
"I saw her place it in her bosom, sir, and with the right hand," cried the Countess, as if betraying a state secret.
"In her--you are telling me the truth?" cried he, his face lighting up.
"Now, see here, Lorry, don't begin to question the Countess's word. I won't stand for that," interposed Anguish, good-humoredly.
"I should be more than base to say falsely that she had done anything so absurd," said the Countess, indignantly.
"Where is she now?" asked Lorry.
"In her boudoir. The Prince Lorenz is with her--alone."
"What!" he cried, jealousy darting into his existence. He had never known jealousy before.
"They are betrothed," said she, with an effort. There was a dead silence, broken by Lorry's deep groan as he turned and walked blindly to the opposite side of the room. He stopped in front of a huge painting and stared at it, but did not see a line or a tint.
"You don't mean to say she has accepted?" half whispered Anguish.
"Nothing less."
"Thank God, you are only a Countess," he said, tenderly.
"Why--why--what difference can it make! I mean, why do you say that?" she stammered, crimson to her hair.
"Because you won't have to sell yourself at a sacrifice," he said, foolishly. Lorry came back to them at this juncture, outwardly calm and deliberate.