She nodded.

“His Majesty has been very kind to me,” she admitted.  “At the same time, I feel that I owe more to myself than I do to him.  His first essay at interfering in my affairs was scarcely a happy one, was it?”

“Perhaps not,” the Count replied.  “And yet, think what you have done!  You have married an Englishman!”

“I thought English people were quite popular in Vienna,” Anna reminded him.

The Count hesitated.  “That,” he declared, “is scarcely the question.  What troubles me most is that forty-eight hours ago I brought you a dispatch from the Emperor.”

“You brought,” Anna pointed out, “what really amounted to an order to return at once to Vienna.  Well, you see, I have disobeyed it.”

They were standing at the corner of Clifford Street, and the Count, with a little gesture, led the way into the less crowded thoroughfare.

“Dear Baroness,” he continued, as they walked slowly along, “I am placed now in a most extraordinary position.  The Emperor’s telegram was of serious import.  It cannot be that you mean to disobey his summons?”

“Well, I really couldn’t put off being married, could I,” Anna protested, “especially when my husband had just got the special license.  Besides, I do not wish to return to Vienna just now.”

The Count glanced at Norgate and appeared to deliberate for a moment.

“The state of affairs in the East,” he said, “is such that it is certainly wiser for every one just now to be within the borders of their own country.”

“You believe that things are serious?” Anna enquired.  “You believe, then, that real trouble is at hand?”

“I fear so,” the Count acknowledged.  “It appears to us that Servia has a secret understanding with Russia, or she would not have ventured upon such an attitude as she is now adopting towards us.  If that be so, the possibilities of trouble are immense, almost boundless.  That is why, Baroness, the Emperor has sent for you.  That is why I think you should not hesitate to at once obey his summons.”

Anna looked up at her companion, her eyes wide open, a little smile parting her lips.

“But, Count,” she exclaimed, “you seem to forget!  A few days ago, all that you say to me was reasonable enough, but to-day there is a great difference, is there not?  I have married an Englishman.  Henceforth this is my country.”

There was a moment’s silence.  The Count seemed dumbfounded.  He stared at Anna as though unable to grasp the meaning of her words.

“Forgive me, Baroness!” he begged.  “I cannot for the moment realise the significance of this thing.  Do you mean me to understand that you consider yourself now an Englishwoman?”

“I do indeed,” she assented.  “There are many ties which still bind me to Austria—­ties, Count,” she proceeded, looking him in the face, “of which I shall be mindful.  Yet I am not any longer the Baroness von Haase.  I am Mrs. Francis Norgate, and I have promised to obey my husband in all manner of ridiculous things.  At the same time, may I add something which will, perhaps, help you to accept the position with more philosophy?  My husband is a friend of Herr Selingman’s.”