“You mean that I might promise to give up all this sort of thing?” King Michael gave a comprehensive wave of the hand, which included at once the pictures that adorned the walls of his room, the empty bottles on the table, and the scattered cards strewing the floor. “If she would marry me, I should be perfectly willing to make such a promise--and I would keep it, too,” he added, with some anxiety, for Prince Mirkovics still looked forbidding. “No, sir, that would not be sufficient. I know Lady Philippa and her parents well enough to feel sure that they would not be satisfied with promises. Your Majesty must give up all these habits at once, and submit to a period of probation, to show that you have really forsaken them, before you attempt to obtain the lady’s hand.” “What a disgusting idea!” The King looked blank. He had paved the way carefully for his own suggestion, but it was quite another matter to adopt the uncompromising scheme of reform set before him. “It would be so wretchedly hard to have to do it all without even being sure of her,” he added. “Is the lady worth it, sir?” demanded Prince Mirkovics. “And would it not give you a claim on her respect, her admiration, if you could go to her and say, ‘Without seeking to bind you, I gave up all my unworthy pleasures for your sake, merely in the hope of rendering myself less unfit to address you. In order to have more to offer you, I have tried to govern my people better, and to raise my kingdom again to the position it occupied under your uncle’s administration’?” “But suppose she won’t marry me after all?” “I would not suppose such a thing, sir. The lady could scarcely fail to see that it was her duty to marry your Majesty, in order to secure the happiness of your people and the welfare of the kingdom, and I am certain that she will do whatever she feels to be her duty.” “All right, then!” King Michael dashed his fist upon the table. “By the bye, you know, you must take office if all this has to be done. I can’t carry it through alone. Roburoff’s conduct furnishes us with an excellent pretext for coolness towards Scythia, and then the Ministry will have to go. You shall be Premier, and cultivate Pannonia instead. That will only be until we are married, of course. Lady Philippa will certainly want her uncle to return to Thracia with her. Oh, I say, that reminds me; what about that secretary fellow? Roburoff declares he is in love with Philippa, and Count Mortimer makes a great pet of him. What is there to prevent his running off with her while I am carrying out my reformation?” “I saw Count Mortimer only this morning, sir, before I left Ludwigsbad, and he mentioned that he was about to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, taking his suite with him. The secretary will be farther from the lady than your Majesty.”