Klaus Heinrich looked at the slight form, which stood by him in the shimmering frock, becurtained by her dark hair, and in whose little head all this lived and meant something. He said, "Can you really waste a lovely morning over all this God-forsaken stuff?"
A glance of anger met him from her big eyes. Then she answered with a pout:
"Your Highness seems to wish to excuse yourself for the want of intelligence you recently displayed with regard to your own exalted calling."
"No," he said, "not so! I give you my word that I respect your studies most highly. I grant that they bother me, I could never understand anything of that sort. I also grant that to-day I feel some resentment against them, as they seem likely to prevent us from going for a ride."
"Oh, I'm not the only one to interfere with your wish for exercise, Prince. There's the Countess too. She was writing—chronicling the experiences of her life, not for the world, but for private circulation, and I guarantee that the result will be a work which will teach you as well as me a good deal."
"I am quite sure of it. But I am equally sure that the Countess is incapable of refusing a request from you."
"And my father? There's the next stumbling-block. You know his temper. Will he consent?"
"He has consented. If you ride, you ride. Those were his words.…"
"You have made sure of him beforehand, then? I'm really beginning to admire your circumspection. You have assumed the rôle of a Field Marshal, although you are not really a soldier, only a make-believe one, as you told us long ago. But there's yet one more obstacle, and that is decisive. It's going to rain."
"No, that's a very weak one. The sun is shining.…"
