“You mean you have never proposed to her yet? But you must, you know. It will be merely a formality, of course, since you are aware what the answer will be, and you can go away immediately afterwards.” “But,” objected Usk, “she might be afraid--of giving me pain----” “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you. Oh, you mean she might accept you for fear of hurting your feelings by refusing? That would put you in a very awkward position, certainly. Your feelings have not changed, I suppose?” “How could they?” was the tragic reply. “Félicia is still--nothing can----” “Nothing can undo the fact of her intervention in your life, you mean? Quite so. When you start with an absolute impossibility of that kind, it simplifies matters, if only in the direction of cutting off one way of escape. Otherwise I should have thought---- I may be at fault in such a delicate matter, but if you were each prepared to marry out of pure tenderness for the other’s feelings, it seems to put it on rather a fair footing, doesn’t it?” “No doubt it all strikes you as awfully funny, but----” “My dear Usk, far from it! I fully appreciate the seriousness of a situation in which it is equally difficult for you to propose or not to propose, to be accepted or refused. I never remember coming across anything quite like it before. If you see any way in which I can help you, pray tell me. How you and Princess Helene are ever to learn each other’s real sentiments while sparing each other’s feelings, I don’t know. Unless, perhaps, you were to intimate that you intended to serenade her one night, and I took your place, _à la_ Cyrano. But I am getting rather old to play Romeo, and, besides, your aunt might object.” Usk growled angrily but incoherently, then turned to his uncle. “Why you should think it funny I don’t know,” he said, with some inconsistency. “I don’t. But what I want to know is, why should I propose to her at all? Why not simply go away?” “But I thought her health would suffer? You don’t think so now? Because you have been received here as a suitor accepted by her parents, and it would be a blackguardly thing to do. It would be a cruel slur on the lady herself, and a most undeserved insult to the Grand-Duke and Duchess. Surely your father’s son is bound to be a gentleman, Usk?” Even in the darkness Cyril was conscious of the start with which his nephew flung up his head. “You don’t understand,” said Usk coldly. “I am only anxious to do what is best for her. But think of it, Uncle Cyril,” his tone changed suddenly; “she is such a child, so young. I don’t believe she has ever thought of this kind of thing at all.” “Girls have a habit of growing into women very much more suddenly than you would expect. At least you might try if she understands.” “I don’t like to disturb her. She has been so perfectly happy lately.”