During this conference court etiquette had prevented the company from exchanging any remarks.  Whatever one person might desire to say to another he was forced to entrust to the mute language of the eyes, and a sportive impulse induced Emperor Rudolph to maintain the spell which held apart those who were most strongly attracted to each other.

Meantime, whilst he was talking with the protonotary, the bolder guests ventured to move about more freely, and of them all Cordula imposed the least restraint upon herself.

Ere Heinz had found time to address a word to Eva or to greet his mother she glided swiftly to his side and, with an angry expression on her face, whispered:  “If Heaven bestowed the greatest happiness upon the most deserving, you must be the most favoured of mortals, for a more exquisite masterpiece than your future wife—­I know her—­was never created.  But now open your ears and follow my advice:  Do not reveal the state of your heart until you have left the castle so far behind that you are out of sight of the Bohemian princess, or your ship of happiness may be wrecked within sight of port.”

Then, with a well-assumed air of indignation, she abruptly turned her back upon him.

After moving away, she intentionally remained standing near the duchess, with drooping head.  The latter hastily approached her, saying with admirably simulated earnestness:  “You, Countess, will probably be the last to refuse your approval of my interference against our knightly butterfly and in behalf of the poor inexperienced girl, his victim.”

“If that is your Highness’s opinion,” replied Cordula, shrugging her shoulders as if it were necessary to submit to the inevitable, “for my part I fear your kind solicitude may send me behind convent walls.”

“Countess von Montfort a nun!” cried the child wife, laughing.  “If it were Sir Heinz Schorlin to whom you just alluded, you, too, are among the deluded ones whom we must pity, yet with prudent foresight you provided compensation long ago.  Instead of burying yourself in a convent, you, whom so many desire, would do better to beckon to one of your admirers and bestow on him the happiness of which the other was not worthy.”

Cordula fixed her eyes thoughtfully on the floor a short time, then, as if the advice had met with her approval, exclaimed:  “Your Royal Highness’s mature wisdom has found the right expedient this time also.  I am not fit for the veil.  Perhaps you may hear news of me to-morrow.  By that time my choice will be determined.  What would you say to the dark-haired Altrosen?”

“A brave champion!” replied the Bohemian, and this time the laugh which accompanied her words came from the heart.  “Try him, in the name of all the saints!  But look at Sir Heinz Schorlin!  A gloomy face for a happy man!  He does not seem quite pleased with our verdict.”

She beckoned, as she spoke, to her chamberlain and the high steward, took leave of her imperial father-in-law and, with her pretty little head flung proudly back, rustled out of the hall.