But of course Hedwig had not learned of his return, and was sitting inside, exactly as despairing as he was, but obliged to converse with her mother in the absence of the Countess. The Archduchess insisted on talking French, for practice, and they got into quite a wrangle over a verb. And as if to add to the general depression, Hilda had been reminded of what anniversary it was, and was told to play hymns only. True, now and then, hearing her mother occupied, she played them in dotted time, which was a bit more cheerful.
Then, late in the evening, Nikky was summoned to the King’s bedroom, and came out pale, with his shoulders very square. He had received a real wigging this time, and even contemplated throwing himself in the river. Only he could swim so damnably well!
But he had the natural elasticity of youth, and a sort of persistent belief in his own luck, rather like the Chancellor’s confidence in seven as a number--a confidence, by the way, which the Countess could easily have shaken. So he had wakened the next morning rather cheerful than otherwise, and over a breakfast of broiled ham had refused to look ahead farther than the day.
That afternoon, in the study, Nikky hesitated when he saw Hedwig. Then he came and bent low over her hand. And Hedwig, because every instinct yearned to touch his shining, bent head, spoke to him very calmly, was rather distant, a little cold.
The Crown Prince put a small napkin around the handle of the silver teapot. He knew from experience that it was very hot. His face was quite screwed up with exertion.
“And to-day,” said Nikky reproachfully, “to-day you did not ride.”
“I did not feel like riding,” Hedwig responded listlessly. “I am tired. I think I am always tired.”
“Lemon and two lumps,” muttered the Crown Prince. “That’s Nikky’s, Hedwig. Give it to him, please.”
Nikky went a trifle pale as their fingers touched. But he tasted his tea, and pronounced it excellent.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto chattered excitedly. He told of the dog, dilating on its cleverness, but passing politely over the manner of its return. Now and then Hedwig glanced at Nikky, when he was not looking, and always, when they dared, the young soldier’s eyes were on her.