Clementina’s lips twitched again.

“I would have given much to have seen you carried,” she said demurely. 
“I suppose you would not repeat the—­No, it would be to ask too much. 
Besides, from my windows here in the side of the house I could not see.” 
And she sighed deeply.

The fatuous gentleman took comfort from the sigh.

“Madam, you have but to say the word and your windows shall look whichever way you will.”

Clementina, however, did not say the word.  She merely sighed again.  The Prince thought it a convenient moment to assert his position.

“I have stayed a long while in Innspruck, setting my constancy, which bade me stay, above my dignity, which bade me go.  For three months I have stayed,—­a long while, madam.”

“I do not think three years could have been longer,” said Clementina, with the utmost sympathy.

“So now in the end I have called my pride to help me.”

“The noblest gift that heaven has given a man,” said Clementina, fervently.

The Prince bowed low; Clementina curtsied majestically.

[Illustration:  The prince strutted to the window; Clementina solemnly kept pace with him.”—­Page 161.]

“Will you give me your hand,” said he, “as far as your window?”

“Certainly, sir, and out of it.”

Clementina laid her hand in his.  The Prince strutted to the window; Clementina solemnly kept pace with him.

“What do you see?  A sentinel fixed there guarding you.  At the door stands a second sentinel.  Answer me as I would be answered, your window and your door are free.  Refuse me, and I travel into Italy.  My trunks are already packed.”

“Neatly packed, I hope,” said Clementina.  Her cheek was flushed; her lips no longer smiled.  But she spoke most politely, and the Prince was at a loss.

“Will you give me your hand,” said she, “as far as my table?”

The Prince doubtfully stretched out his hand, and the couple paced in a stately fashion to Clementina’s table.

“What do you see upon my table?” said she, with something of the Prince’s pomposity.

“A picture,” said he, reluctantly.

“Whose?”

“The Pretender’s,” he answered with a sneer.

“The King’s,” said she, pleasantly.  “His picture is fixed there guarding me.  Against my heart there lies a second.  I wish your Highness all speed to Italy.”

She dropped his hand, bowed to him again in sign that the interview was ended.  The Prince had a final argument.

“You refuse a dowry of L100,000.  I would have you think of that.”

“Sir, you think of it for both of us.”

The Prince drew himself up to his full stature.

“I have your answer, then?”

“You have, sir.  You had it yesterday, and if I remember right the day before.”