“To renounce your _fiancée_ in order to spare my battered reputation a few more knocks? I quite see that. Oh, don’t think I blame you. Here am I groping helplessly to try and find the thread of affairs which I could once have worked out in my sleep, and losing my temper with you over it. It’s that which drives me wild.” He rose hastily, and left the balcony by the farther window, and Usk, feeling perplexed and somewhat guilty, returned into the sitting-room, where Queen Ernestine was writing at the table. “Don’t trouble your uncle more than you can help, Usk,” she said, looking up. “He is very much worried just now.” “It’s not my fault----” began Usk indignantly. Then he stopped, and fidgeted awkwardly with the inkstand. “I don’t want to bother you, or to do anything rude,” he broke out; “but if you could say a word or two to the King! Of course it’s only natural he should admire her, and that she should be pleased, but--well, you see how it is. I don’t think I’m jealous generally, but it really is rather rough on a man. And it’s just the uncertainty that’s weighing on Uncle Cyril, too. Don’t you think--is there any reason why the King shouldn’t marry this Scythian Princess?” The Queen looked almost terrified. “You don’t understand,” she said. “It is not that we could have any objection to Sonya herself; it is simply that the marriage is being pressed on by my cousin, the Princess of Dardania, for her own purposes. She has hated your uncle for many years, and she hates me because I am his wife. It was her influence which banished your uncle from Thracia, and led to the present troubles. To see Michael delivered over to her again---- No, I must fight to the end against that.” “I’m sorry,” said Usk. “I only thought--well, if he was married to some one else, you see, there would be no excuse for these women to persuade Félicia that he was after her. That’s what it is, you know. It’s not her fault, it’s theirs. They get round her and make her think that he really means something, and she doesn’t know----” “That he is only amusing himself?” supplied the Queen, as he paused. “Oh, Usk, I see your trouble, and I will do anything I can to help you. I fear it might not be much use to speak to Michael, but if we could only see him happily married! There is just a chance that he might take to the Schwarzwald-Molzaus’ youngest daughter, who is coming here with them. But she is a mere child, only confirmed last year, and I could not wish them to marry unless they loved one another. I am afraid I have been indiscreet in speaking of it, but it would smooth your path, wouldn’t it? Indeed I will help you if I can.” She held out her hand mechanically, and Usk kissed it, in the way he had learned from his uncle. The Queen laughed.