"Which of you three young men are going to fall in love with her?" she asked bluntly. "You call her a child, but she is almost a woman, and she is beautiful. She will be very beautiful."
"Your Highness," I answered coldly, "it is a matter which we have not as yet permitted ourselves to consider."
The Archduchess was displeased with me, and she took no further pains to hide her displeasure.
"Mr. Greatson," she said, with a little wave of dismissal, "for the present I have no more to say."
She turned her back upon me, and I at once left the Gallery.
I walked home with but one thought in my mind. The Archduchess had put into words--very plain, blunt words--what as yet I had scarcely dared harbour in my mind as a fugitive idea. She had done me in that respect good service. She had brought to a sudden crisis an issue which it was folly any longer to evade. I meant to speak now, and have done with it. I walked through the busy streets a dreaming man. It was for the last time. Henceforth, even the dream must pass.
I found Mabane and Arthur alone, for which I was sufficiently thankful. There was no longer any excuse for delay. Mabane had taken possession of the easy-chair, and was smoking his largest pipe. Arthur was walking restlessly up and down the room. Evidently they had been discussing between them the events of the afternoon, for there was a sudden silence when I entered, and they both waited eagerly for me to speak. I closed the door carefully behind me, and took a cigarette from the box on my desk.
"What did the Archduchess want?" Arthur asked bluntly.
"I will tell you all that she said presently," I answered. "In effect, it was the same as the others. She, too, wanted Isobel!"
"Shall we have to give her up?" Arthur demanded.
"We will discuss that another time," I said. "I am glad to find that you are both here. There is another matter, concerning which I think that we ought to come to an understanding as soon as possible. It has been in my mind for a long while."
They were both attentive. Mabane's expression was purely negative. Arthur, on the other hand, was distinctly nervous. I think that from the first he had some idea what it was that I wanted to say.
"Isobel, when she came to us little more than a year ago," I continued, "was a child. We have always treated her, and I believe thought of her, as a child. It was perhaps a daring experiment to have brought her here at all, and yet I am inclined to think that, under the circumstances, it was the best thing for her, and, from another point of view, an excellent thing for us!"
