I drew forth the contents and read it.
"Herr Winthrop--Forgive the indiscretion of a Princess. On my honor, I
am sorry for having made you believe that you inspired me with the
grand passion. Folly finds plenty to do with idle minds. It was a
caprice of mine which I heartily regret. There is nothing to forgive;
there is much to forget. However, I am under great obligations to you.
I am positive that I shall love my sister as I have never loved a human
being before. She is adorable, and I can well comprehend why you
should love her deeply. Forgive me for playing with what the French
call your summer affections. I am about to leave for Hohenphalia to
prepare the way for the new sovereign. Will you kindly destroy that
one indiscreet letter which I, in the spirit of mischief, wrote you
last autumn?
"The Princess Hildegarde."
The envelope reminded me of a rusty scabbard; there was a very keen
weapon within. I lit my pipe and puffed for a while.
"Cousin," said I, "I have a premonition that I shall not kill Prince
Ernst of Wortumborg at six o'clock to-morrow morning.
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