Читать книгу The Knot Garden: Some Old Fancies Reset - Bowen Marjorie - Страница 8

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THE Princess sighed when she thought of the disappointment of her father and her family.

"However," she consoled herself; though a little wistfully, "one cannot satisfy everyone. And he has the satisfaction of knowing that his daughter has refused the most brilliant prince in the Empire."

They had overwhelmed her with every courtesy, the Prince and his mother, but after a little while they had not striven to break her resolution. She was sure they were very glad that she had not insisted on a prolongation of the sacrifice. They had accomplished their purpose, re-instated themselves in their own esteem and in that of their subjects and neighbours. The glow of a generous deed would remain with them, though the price of that deed would not be exacted.

She had had the good sense to see how abominable it was to expect a man like Prince Chlodwig really to marry her, but that did not, in the eyes of his contemporaries, lessen his chivalry and generosity.

If Rozsika or another like her came to the Court once more, well, it would only be natural, and who would there be to blame? He would forget that she had laughed, he would only remember how lovely she had looked.

She, Magdalena Sybilla, had served her turn. She had helped him to redeem himself, he was once again the brilliant hero, the gilded cavalier, the resplendent young Prince. She had not been, she flattered herself, without a certain effect on his character. She had not observed him drink during their brief betrothal, though there had been a certain affectation in the ostentation of his abstinence. Well, let that pass, too. He was but one-and- twenty, in time he would outgrow his whims and fancies and no doubt become a steadfast and an honourable man and perhaps she would be the only one who would ever be aware of the real weakness of his character, and even she would never have known of it if she had not come upon Johann Böhm feeding the swans on a lake which was like a lady's mirror in the garden where the first leaves of autumn began to fall. He was a man who could not endure to lose, who could not suffer that an inferior should excel him. Where he had behaved ill no other must behave well.

He honoured her departure with very great courtesy. An escort was placed at her disposal; gifts she was not allowed to refuse were placed in her baggage-waggon. Standing there before all his people he kissed her hand as she sat in her carriage and regretted once more, with many vows and protestations, that she had felt herself unable to carry out that marriage contract.

He promised himself a visit some day, perhaps soon, perhaps immediately, to Gandersheim, that noblest of Abbeys that would now have the noblest of Abbesses...

He played his part perfectly and she admired him with a certain compassion and she was sorry that his eye should chance to rest upon a humble figure among her servants. As he recognised that gaunt form, those spare, harsh features, he forgot his dignity and his equanimity and exclaimed harshly:

"Johann Böhm goes with you?"

She replied with a meekness that was not assumed:

"The Abbess of Gandersheim is allowed an orchestra, and Herr Böhm plays the violin very well."

The young Prince opened his lips as if about to speak, but was silent. He seemed entirely withdrawn into himself, hostile not only to her, but to all the world. He bowed again with stiff military precision; behind this salutation she sensed an abrupt, a disdainful dismissal.

She had not meant to say any more, but his obvious hardening, his antagonistic glance, though it did not provoke her, decided her to add gently, bowing from the window of the gilded coach which his noble generosity had provided:

"Herr Böhm and I promised ourselves some duettos at Gandersheim. He has now a new violin, of a finer tone than that he broke. And I brought from home my spinet which is painted with a charming landscape of Love."