I wanted to speak
to you about--about my sister."
"Your Highness--"
She laughed. "Our interview shall end at once if you call me by that
title. Sir," with a gaiety which struck me as unnatural, "you are
witnessing the passing of Phyllis. It will not be long before she
shall pass away and never more return, and the name shall fade till it
becomes naught but a dear memory. Phyllis has left the green pastures
for the city, and Corydon followeth not."
"Phyllis," said I, "you are cutting me to the heart."
"But to the matter at hand," she said quickly. "There is a
misunderstanding between you and my sister Hildegarde. She sent me
this letter. Read it."
It differed but little from the one I had read in the King's chamber
that morning. I gave it back to her.
"Do you understand?"
"I confess that I do not. It seems that I am never going to understand
anything again."
Phyllis balanced the letter on the palm of her hand. "You are so very
blind, my dear friend. Did you not tell her that there had been
another affair? Do you not believe she thinks your regard for her
merely a matter of pique, of consolation? It was very kind of her to
sacrifice herself for me.
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