IV
Marie had a difficult time at the Chalcondylas palace. She had the greatest trouble in maintaining her authority, she, a girl of barely nineteen. The two young princes of fourteen and fifteen looked seventeen and eighteen and were youthful sprigs of full-blooded virility, on the point of budding and bursting into full bloom. Not every princely race is bloodless and, if I adopted Zola's theories of heredity, I could explain to you why these young princes were so warm-blooded, but I dare say that you will agree that it was because of some warm-blooded grandfather or grandmother. And they were decidedly troublesome to their young governess, with their impudent efforts to romp and take liberties with her. While Marie was defending herself, the naughty little princess would peep inquisitively through a chink of the door. The Chalcondylas palace, however princely, was not exactly a model residence nor noted for its austere manners and strict code of morals: when the princess went to Vienna, now and again, to replenish her wardrobe, the prince would also disappear for a few days, in mysterious company, to his hunting-box; and the three children and the host of servants, like so many savages and cannibals let loose, remained masters of the house. Everyone slept as long as he pleased and had his meals when he felt inclined; there was dancing below stairs; and Marie Delestre, generally so plucky and self-possessed, was as much scared as though her last hour had struck, especially when the two young princes came rattling at the handle of her locked door, while the little princess did Heaven knows what Heaven knows where. . . .
Of this house of noble and semi-oriental modern barbarians, Prince Basile was, to the perplexed Marie Delestre, the most understandable element. She understood neither the trips to Vienna nor the idylls at the hunting-box; and she would never have had any suspicion of a child-life such as that led by her pupils. But Prince Basile at any rate was understandable: he was a fashionable youth, with plenty of money, who used to come home late at night from mingling in society, respectable or other. He was polite and charming; and lately he seemed to surmise that he was not employing the French subjunctive quite correctly. He felt this defect in his education so strongly that he asked Marie's permission to attend the
