‘Major von Töbingen’s duties have taken him away,’ said the Duke gently, ‘What duties? Where?’
The Duke looked surprised. Even his dear daughter could not speak to him in that manner.
‘Suffice it that he is no longer with us.’
‘No longer with us! I tell you I shall not be satisfied with that. I want to know where he is. I want him brought back. I am going to marry him. Nothing— nothing— nothing— is going to stop me.’
The Duke looked at Madame de Hertzfeldt who said gently: ‘Caroline, you must realize that a princess cannot marry without the approval of her family.’
‘I know nothing of other princesses. I only know what I myself will do. I will marry Major von Töbingen.’
The Duke said: ‘No, my dear, you will not.’
She turned on him. ‘You said that I should not be forced to marry against my will.’
‘I did; and you shall not be. But I did not give you permission to marry without my consent.’
‘So you have sent him away.’
‘Caroline,’ said Madame de Hertzfeldt, ‘it was the only thing we could do.’
‘The only thing you could do. And who are you, Madam, to govern me? Be silent! If I have to listen to my father, I will not to you. I shall not stay here.’ She began to pace the room.
She was like a tigress, thought Madame de Hertzfeldt. How peaceful we should be if she would marry and go away from the Court! The Duke was about to protest when Madame de Hertzfeldt signed to him not to do so on her account. She was sure that they must try to reason with Caroline gently. She was always afraid on occasions like this that Caroline’s delicately- poised mind would over-balance and she knew what great grief this would bring to the Duke.
The Duke said: ‘You must have realized the unsuitability of such a match.’
‘It is suitable because we love each other. What more suitable? Would you have me make a marriage such as yours? Would you give me a mate whom I must despise as you do yours?’
The Duke clenched his hands. She was shouting and he knew that her words would be overheard.
‘Don’t try to silence me. You have taken my lover from me. He is good and kind and handsome but that would not do. You would marry me to some ill- formed monstrosity just because he is a royal. That would be suitable— suitable — suitable―’
Madame de Hertzfeldt had slipped out of the room. The Duke guessed that it was to take some action. In the meantime he tried to quiet his daughter.
‘Caroline, I will not have you shout in this manner. I will have you remember your place here. If I cared, I could arrange a marriage for you entirely of my choosing. Do not imagine that because I have so far been lenient with you, I shall continue to be so. So much depends on your own conduct.’
That quieted her. It was true she was a little afraid of him. She did realize that she owed her free way of life to him‚ that she was not treated as so many princesses in her position would have been.
‘Papa,’ she said, ‘I love him!’
‘I know, my dear, but it could not be. You must realize that.’
‘Why not? It seems so senseless! Why should we have to be made unhappy when we could be happy, when we could have healthy children and bring them up in a happy home.’
‘It is the penalty of royalty.’
‘But we ourselves make those penalties! Why? Why? Why cannot we be free?
Why do we pen ourselves in with our misery merely to preserve our silly royalty?’
‘Pray do not speak in that way, daughter.’
‘So I may not even speak as I will!’ Her eyes flashed with sudden rage. ‘I will not endure this treatment, I tell you. I will make my own life I will go and find him— I will renounce your precious royalty for the sake of love.’
Madame de Hertzfeldt had returned; she was carrying a cup. ‘Caroline,’ she said, ‘you know you have my sympathy. Pray, do as I say.’
‘What is that?’
‘Drink this. It will help you to sleep for a while. You are distraught; and when you have recovered a little from this shock you may talk with your father.’
For a moment it seemed as though Caroline would dash the cup out of Madame de Hertzfeldt’s hand; then that tactful woman said, ‘You will feel calmer. You may be able to convert him to your ideas— or even accept his.’
The hopelessness of her situation was brought home to Caroline. The walls of the apartment seemed to close in upon her. Shut in, she thought, imprisoned in royalty.
The Princess Caroline was ill. She would eat nothing; she could not sleep. She lay hollow-eyed in her bed.
She had received a letter from Major von Töbingen in which he said goodbye to her. He begged her to accept their separation which in his heart he had known was inevitable from the beginning. She must not try to find him, for even if she did— which was not possible— he could not marry her. To do so would be an act of treason, she must realize that. He would never forget her. He would love her until he died if she would occasionally think of him with tenderness that was all he would ask of life.
She wept bitterly over the letter and kept it under her pillow to read again and again The dream of love and marriage with the man of her, choice was over. She was listless‚ and they feared for her life.
It gave her a savage pleasure to see their concern. Her father came to her room each day, he was very tender. If there was anything she wished for— except that one thing which was all she wanted— she might have it.
‘Nothing, nothing,’ she murmured and turned her face the wall.
But she was grieved to see his unhappiness. He had been a good father to her; and she loved him.
For his sake she ate a little and tried to feel resigned. And‚ after a while she was well enough to leave her bed.
The Duke suggested a change of scene and she left Court for a while and when she returned she was a little more like her old exuberant self.
But when Prince George of Darmstadt made an offer for her hand she refused him.
‘Although I am not allowed to choose,’ she said firmly, ‘at least I am permitted to reject.’
The Miracle
SHE was twenty-six. It was said of her: ‘She will never marry now.’
She began to think so herself. She was often in the houses of her father’s subjects; if a new baby was about to be born she expressed great interest; and each day she drove out to visit her children.
She often thought of Major von Töbingen and wondered whether he had married; the thought of his being the father of lovely children was almost unbearable. Perhaps she had been foolish; since they would not let her have the man she loved, it might have been wise to have taken one of those whom they thought were so suitable. She might at least have had her baby by now.
She was more subdued than she had been. The affair with Major von Töbingen had changed her. It did not worry her that there was scandal about her and that many malicious people said that she was unmarried because she had led an immoral life. They credited— or discredited— her with having given birth to at least two illegitimate children and they quoted as proof the occasion of the ball when the accoucheur had come to the Palace and the time when she had left Court after the Töbingen affair. What did she care? She had grown listless about such matters.
All the same she was weary of life at Brunswick. She was fond of her father, it was true; but she was conscious of her mother’s jealousy of Madame de Hertzfeldt and the latter’s toleration of the Duchess. It was an uneasy situation at the best and Caroline could enjoy no satisfactory relationship with either of them.
She began to grow a little morbid . I shall end my days at Brunswick, she thought, always longing for the children I never had. I have been a fool. I should have accepted marriage with one of the men who were offered to me. Then the miracle happened.