the name of all that is practical, what are we to do? This is exceedingly grave; morally, madam, it is appalling. I take the liberty, your Highness, for one moment, of addressing you as a daughter, a loved although respected daughter; and I must say that I cannot conceal from you that this is morally most questionable. And, O dear me, we have a dead body!’
She had watched him closely; hope fell to contempt; she drew away her skirts from his weakness, and, in the act, her own strength returned to her.
‘See if he be dead,’ she said; not one word of explanation or defence; she had scorned to justify herself before so poor a creature: ‘See if he be dead’ was all.
With the greatest compunction, the Chancellor drew near; and as he did so the wounded Baron rolled his eyes.
‘He lives,’ cried the old courtier, turning effusively to Seraphina. ‘Madam, he still lives.’
‘Help him, then,’ returned the Princess, standing fixed. ‘Bind up his wound.’
‘Madam, I have no means,’ protested the Chancellor.
‘Can you not take your handkerchief, your neckcloth, anything?’ she cried; and at the same moment, from her light muslin gown she rent off a flounce and tossed it on the floor.
