not tell him, I should like to know who _did_!"

"May I remind you, Princess," said Mirliflor, "that the answer was not
made by me?"

"You let the Baron answer for you, which is just as bad!" retorted Edna.
"And I absolutely refuse to be trapped and cheated into marrying
anybody!"

"_My_ conscience at least is clear," he said. "But I am to understand
that you decline to marry me, Princess--is that so?"

"Certainly I do. Nothing would induce me to accept you after this! I
don't care what Father and Mother or the Council or anyone says!
When--if--I marry I intend to choose for myself. And you are about the
last person, Prince Mirliflor, I should ever dream of choosing!"

"I am desolated to hear it, Princess," he replied, with admirable
patience and resignation. "But since I have the misfortune to be so
obnoxious to you, the only service I can render you now is to relieve
you of my presence as soon as possible."

Queen Selina implored him to stay to lunch, and even held out hopes that
Edna might relent in time--but all her entreaties were in vain. To her
infinite chagrin and the general lamentation, he insisted on leaving the
Palace within an hour. He said no farewell to his Godmother, who for her
part was glad to escape a private interview with him, but he took his
leave of his host and hostess with all due outward courtesy, though
inwardly fuming with rage and impatience to quit a place where he
considered he had been so wantonly insulted.

Count von Rubenfresser must have got wind from some quarter of the
Prince's discomfiture, for on the very next day he turned up at the
Palace about lunch time, according to his previous habit, and Queen
Selina, though far from delighted at his appearance, could hardly avoid
inviting him to remain. His manner at table was considerably more
assured, and his appetite, if anything, heartier than usual, but even so
he seemed, to all but Princess Edna, an indifferent substitute for the
Prince whose departure they were still mourning.

Edna, however, seemed to make a point of treating him with marked
favour, so much so that, when lunch was over and the Royal Family had
removed to the Terrace, it was rather with disgust than surprise that
they discovered that the Princess Royal and the Count had stolen off
together to a secluded part of the gardens.

Whether _amour propre_ had incited her to make a special effort to
overcome his hesitation, or absence and jealousy had quickened his