“Yes; I suppose Michael would feel obliged to interfere. Oh, Cyril, I wanted to speak to you about him. You heard of that terribly sad business about Lida, of course? Well, since his engagement came to an end, Michael has written me such nice letters, so affectionate, so respectful. He says that he has turned over a new leaf, and this is because he has formed an attachment for a young lady who will be as acceptable to me as to Thracia. Do you know who she is?” “I have an idea.” “And is it all as suitable as he thinks?” “So far as I know, the only opposition to their engagement will come from the lady herself.” “But why? Is she as beautiful and altogether desirable as he says she is?” “I feel some delicacy in answering that question. You see, she happens to be my niece.” “What! your brother Carlino’s daughter? But, Cyril, the Thracians will go mad with joy. Is it the little girl with the beautiful golden hair whom I saw years ago at Tatarjé? She must be a good deal older than Michael, but she had such sweet ways that it is no wonder she has captivated him. He could not make a better choice. But why are you looking at me in that way, Cyril? Why should she raise any objection? It’s not--oh, don’t say that you have no other niece! This is not the young lady with whom that pleasant Mr Mansfield is in love?” “Unfortunately it is.” “But she couldn’t refuse Michael!” “And yet I heard a lady propose a few minutes ago to resign a crown for the sake of her lover.” “But that is different. Your niece would be the making of Michael. Cyril, promise me you will persuade her to accept him.” “My dearest, I could not set myself a second time to interfere with the course of true love.” “But she ought--oh, Cyril, how unkind of you to remind me of that! No, most certainly I won’t try to smooth Michael’s path for him. I did too much harm the last time, and it has come to nothing after all. But you do think it is her duty to marry him, don’t you?” “I fancy Phil will decide for herself where her duty lies. And really, Ernestine, it will do your boy all the good in the world to want something very much, and not be able to get it. That will make a man of him, if you like. Is that some one outside?” “I beg your pardon, Count”--Mansfield’s deprecating voice was heard from the hall--“but the horses are ready.” “Those two good fellows have been doing my packing, that I might have a longer time with you. Good-bye, my dearest. _Au revoir_ at Brutli!” “_Auf wiedersehen_, my beloved! Take care of yourself for my sake.” “By the bye, dearest, I suppose I may assure your sheikh that it’s all right about the treaty, and that you have decided to maintain friendly relations with the Jews?” “Of course you may. But politics again, Cyril! I am jealous.”