Then, as his wife waited, speechless, the Grand Duke gravely asked: "You, too, have heard of this sad affair, Victoria? Ah, I perceive you have, and that you come in haste to prevent it,—even to pursue these misguided beings, if necessary, as the fact that you come already dressed for the journey very eloquently shows. You are self-sacrificing, you possess a good heart, Victoria."  
"I did not know—" began the Grand Duchess.
 
"Until the last moment," the Grand Duke finished. "Eh, I comprehend. But perhaps," he continued, hopefully, "it is not yet too late to bring them to their senses."
 
And turning toward the Baroness and de Châteauroux, he said:
 
"I may not hinder your departure if you two in truth are swayed by love, since to control that passion is immeasurably beyond the prerogative of kings. Yet I beg you to reflect that the step you contemplate is irrevocable. Yes, and to you, madame, whom I have long viewed with a paternal affection—an emotion wholly justified by the age and rank for which it has pleased Heaven to preserve me,—to you in particular I would address my plea. If with an entire heart you love Monsieur de Châteauroux, why, then—why, then, I concede that love is divine, and yonder carriage at your disposal. But I beg you to reflect—"
 
"Believe me," said the Baroness, "we are heartily grateful for your
Highness' magnanimity. We may, I deduce, depart with your permission?"
 
"Oh, freely, if upon reflection—"
 
"I can reflect only when I am sitting down," declared the Baroness. She handed her portmanteau to de Châteauroux, and stepped into the carriage. And the Grand Duke noted that a coachman and two footmen had appeared, from nowhere in particular.
 
"To you, Monsieur le Comte," his Highness now began, with an Olympian frown, "I have naught to say. Under the cover of our hospitality you have endeavored to steal away the fairest ornament of our Court; I leave you to the pangs of conscience, if indeed you possess a conscience. But the Baroness is unsophisticated; she has been misled by your fallacious arguments and specious pretence of affection. She has evidently been misled," he said to the Grand Duchess, kindly, "as any woman might be."
 
"As any woman might be!" his wife very feebly echoed.
 
"And I shall therefore," continued the Grand Duke, "do all within my power to dissuade her from this ruinous step. I shall appeal to her better nature, and not, I trust, in vain."
 
He advanced with dignity to the carriage, wherein the Baroness was seated. "Amalia," he whispered, "you are an admirable actress. 'O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping!"
 
The Baroness smiled.
 
"And it is now time," said his Highness, "for me to appeal to your better nature. I shall do so in a rather loud voice, for I have prepared a most virtuous homily that I am unwilling the Grand Duchess should miss. You will at its conclusion be overcome with an appropriate remorse, and will obligingly burst into tears, and throw yourself at my feet—pray remember that the left is the gouty one,—and be forgiven. You will then be restored to favor, while de Châteauroux drives off alone and in disgrace. Your plan works wonderfully."
 
"It is true," the Baroness doubtfully said, "such was the plan."
 
"And a magnificent one," said the Grand Duke.
 
"But I have altered it, your Highness."
 
"And this alteration, Amalia—?"
 
"Involves a trip to Vienna."
 
"Not yet, Amalia. We must wait."
 
"Oh, I could never endure delays," said the Baroness, "and, since you cannot accompany me, I am going with Monsieur de Châteauroux."
 
The Grand Duke grasped the carriage door.
 
"Preposterous!" he cried.
 
"But you have given your consent," the Baroness protested, "and in the presence of the Grand Duchess."
 
"Which," said the Grand Duke, "was part of our plan."
 
"Indeed, your Highness," said the Baroness, "it was a most important part. You must know," she continued, with some diffidence, "that I have the misfortune to love Monsieur d............