"Why, how is that? You are neither German nor Austrian."

"No, I'm American, but I'm very highborn nevertheless. There are a
hundred millions of us and all of us are very highborn not excepting our
colored people, many of whom are descended from African princes who have
a power over their people not approached by either of the kaisers."

The boy smiled.

"Now, I know you jest," he said. "You have no classes, but I've heard
that all of you claim to be kings."

John saw that he had made no impression upon him. Frank, honest and
brave, an Auersperg was nevertheless in the boy's mind an Auersperg,
something superior, a product of untold centuries, a small and
sublimated group of the human race to which nothing else could aspire,
not even talent, learning, courage and honesty. To all Auerspergs,
Napoleon and Shakespeare were mere men of genius, to be patronized. John
smiled, too. He did not feel hurt at all. In his turn he felt a
superiority, a superiority of perception, and a superiority in the sense
of proportion.

"Prince Karl of Auersperg is always resolved to maintain his pride of
blood, is he not?" he asked.

"He considers it his duty. The head of a house that has been princely
for fifteen centuries could not do less. He could never forget or
forgive an insult to his person."