Jeanne smiled.

“Well,” she said, “we shall see.  I certainly do not think that he will ever ask me to marry him.  He is one of those whom my gold does not seem to attract.”

“He is clumsy,” the Princess remarked.  “A word of encouragement would have brought him to your feet.”

“If I had thought so,” Jeanne remarked, “I would have spoken it.”

The Princess looked across at her stepdaughter searchingly.

“Tell me the truth, Jeanne,” she said.  “Have you been idiot enough to really care for this man?”

“That,” Jeanne answered, “is a subject which I cannot discuss with any one, not even you.”

“It is all very well,” the Princess answered, “but whatever happens, I must see that you do not make an idiot of yourself.  It is very important indeed, for more reasons than you know of.”

Jeanne looked up.

“Such as—?” she asked.

The Princess hesitated.  There were two evils before her.  It was not possible to escape from both.  She found herself weighing the chances of each of them, their nearness to disaster.

“Well,” she said, “great fortunes even like yours are not above the chances of the money-markets.  Your fortune, or a great part of it, might go.  What would happen to you then?  You would be a pauper.”

Jeanne smiled.

“I can see nothing terrifying in that,” she answered, “but at the same time I do not think that a fortune such as mine is a very fluctuating affair.”

“You are right, of course,” the Princess said.  “You will be one of the richest young women in the country.  There is nothing to prevent it.  It is a good thing that you have me to look after you.”

Jeanne leaned a little forward in her chair, and looked steadfastly at her stepmother.

“I suppose,” she said, “that you are right.  You know the world, at any rate, and you are clever.  But often you puzzle me.  Why at first did you want me to marry Major Forrest?”

The Princess’ face seemed suddenly to harden.

“I never wished you to,” she said coldly.  “However, we will not talk about that.  For certain reasons I think that it would be well for you to be married before you actually come of age.  That is why I have invited the Count de Brensault here to-night.”

Jeanne’s dark eyes were fixed curiously upon the Princess.

“Sometimes,” she said, “I do not altogether understand you.  Why should there be all this nervous haste about my marriage?  Do you know that it would trouble me a great deal more, only that I have absolutely made up my mind that nothing will induce me to marry any one whom I do not really care for.”

The Princess raised her head, and for a moment the woman and the girl looked at one another.  It was almost a duel—­the Princess’ intense, almost threatening regard, and Jeanne’s set face and steadfast eyes.