As I passed my mother, she beckoned to me. Elsa had left her, and she was alone for the moment. It seemed that she had a word to say to me, and on the subject concerning which I thought it likely enough that she would have something to say—the engagement of Coralie to sing at the gala performance.
"Was there not some unpleasant talk about this Madame Mansoni?" she asked.
"Well, there was talk," said I, smiling and allowing my eyes to rest on the figure of William Adolphus, visible in the distance. "It would have been better not to have her, perhaps. It can be altered, I suppose."
"Bederhof sanctioned it without referring to you or to me. It has become public now."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"Yes; it's in the evening papers."
"Any—any remarks?"
"No, except that the Vorwärts calls it an extraordinarily suitable selection."
"The Vorwärts? Yes," said I thoughtfully. Wetter wrote for the Vorwärts. "Perhaps then to cancel it would make more talk than to let it stand. The whole story is very old."
Princess Heinrich permitted a smile to appear on her face as with a wave of her fan she relegated Coralie to a proper insignificance. She was smiling still as she added:
"There's another old acquaintance coming to assist at the wedding, Augustin. I telegraphed to ask her, and she has answered accepting the invitation in the warmest terms."
"Indeed! Who is that, pray?"
"The Baroness," said my mother.
