"I do not like it," she said, at last. "Your brother would not like it.
It is not becoming. Well, thanks be to Heaven, he is only English."

"Oh, of course," agreed Maria Dolores, "if he were Austrian, it would be
entirely different."

"But is it fair to the young man himself?" pursued Frau Brandt. "Is he
aware that he is hobanobbing with a Serene Highness? You treat him as an
equal. What if he should fall in love with you?"

"What indeed! But he won't," laughed Maria Dolores, possibly with a
mental reservation.

"Who can tell?" said Frau Brandt. "His eyes, when he looked at you, had
an expression. But there is a greater danger still. You are both at the
dangerous age. He is good-looking. What if your heart should become
interested in him?"

"Oh, in that case," answered Maria Dolores, lightly, her chin a little
in the air, "I should marry him--if he asked me."

"What!" cried Frau Brandt, half rising from her chair.

"Yes," said Maria Dolores, cheerfully unexcited. "He is a man of
breeding and education, even if he isn't noble. If I loved a man, I
shouldn't give one thought to his birth. I'm tired of all our Austrian
insistence upon birth, upon birth and quarterings and precedencies. If
ever I love, I shall love some one just for what he is, for what God has
made him, and for nothing else. It wouldn't matter if his father were a
cobbler--if I loved him, I'd marry him." Her chin higher in the air, she