The Duke of York was a tolerably good looking young man, a little arrogant.

Were all the English arrogant? she wondered. He was light-hearted, gay and ready for a flirtation with his cousin Caroline, but she suspected that he might not wish it to go beyond that.

She liked him moderately. Perhaps if she did not constantly compare him with Major von Töbingen she might have considered him as a husband, for after all if she were going to get her big family, as her mother said, she must not delay too long.

When he found that she was not prepared to treat him as a potential lover, the Duke was philosophically resigned, one might say relieved. His cousin Caroline was not ill-looking; she was bright enough; but she did not appeal to him as a wife or mistress. He was longing to get back to England; he had been away a long time but when he thought of Englishwomen they seemed so much more desirable than any he had met on his travels.

He had clear memory of Mrs. Robinson, the very handsome young actress with whom his brother, George, had been in love. What a goddess she had seemed! And he had left England before that affair had come to its conclusion.

He often laughed to think of George in love, for when George fell in love, he did so wholeheartedly. He remembered how he had accompanied his brother out into the gardens at Kew to that spot where Essex— who was then Malden— had brought the beautiful actress, George’s Perdita. And there George and she had embraced under the trees while he kept watch on one side and Malden and Perdita’s lady’s maid on the other.

What a creature Mrs. Robinson was! He had not seen anyone to touch her for beauty since he had left England. And the lady’s maid was a beauty too.

He was longing to be back; and he hoped before very long he would be. Why should he be exiled from home just because the King thought that a Guelph should take his training in a German army? But one must be fair to the old man.

There was fighting on the Continent and that gave him a chance to take part in a real battle. But oh, how he longed to go home and talk to his brother George and find out what he was doing now. For of one thing he could be sure, the Prince of Wales would be doing something exciting How much truth was there in this rumour that he had married a Mrs.

Fitzherbert? If he had— by God, there would be trouble. But there always would be trouble around George. That was the one thing he could be sure of. Oh, indeed, what joy to be home, to share his brother’s adventures, to be on those old terms of intimacy. For George was his friend as no one else ever could be.

Arid now here he was at the Court of Brunswick. Aunt Augusta was not in the least like her brother. In fact, Frederick was sure his father would heartily disapprove of his sister. He always had; but at the same time the King felt that his niece, the Princess Caroline, should be the wife of one of his sons.

Not this one, thought Frederick. I should soon tire of Madame Caroline. And she would never make a docile wife. Still, it amused him to ride with her, talk with her, dance with her— in fact behave towards her as a very good cousin.

She wanted to hear about England; and as they rode out with a party he would bring her horse close to his and talk to her.

Did they ride much in England? she wanted to know.

‘All the time. I reckon we have some of the finest horses in the world.’

Trust them, thought Caroline. They had the finest everything.

‘And your brothers and sisters, they enjoy riding.’

‘My brother, the Prince of Wales, is devoted to the exercise. Not only does he ride, but he drives his own phaeton and carriages. He is said to be one of the best horsemen in the country.’

‘People will pay royalty such compliments.’

‘What do you mean, cousin?’

‘That princes and princesses are always the best this and that. They only have to have one good feature and they are beautiful. Take me, for instance. I have been called the beautiful Princess of Brunswick. What do you think of that?’

‘That it is not untrue.’

‘Courtier!’ she laughed. ‘You don’t mean it! You think I am just tolerable as a cousin. Oh, do not think, Master York, that I am inviting flirtation. I am not. If I wished to flirt, there are many ready to oblige.’

‘I am sure of that.’

‘And I should not wish to bother my lord Duke, and even if he felt so disposed I might discourage him.’

‘How unkind!’

She laughed aloud. ‘Very glib. And I have no more desire to marry you than you have to marry me. So set yourself at ease on that score.’

‘Marriage?’ gasped the Duke.

‘Let us be honest. Whenever the son of a king visits a princess the intention is always there. Your visit, sir, is in the nature of an inspection. I am not asking you to deny this. I am only putting your mind at rest.’

She whipped up her horse and rode on; the Duke stared after her. What a strange creature! What did she mean? Was she coquettish? Was she chiding him for not making advances or warning him off lest he did? He attempted to follow her; then he saw her making for a tall soldier on horseback.

She joined him; she threw a glance over her shoulder at the Duke. Nothing could have told him more clearly that she had no wish for him to join them.

The Duke fell back and rode with the rest of the party.

Life was conducted in a very strange manner at the Court of Brunswick, he thought, and the strangest part of it was the behaviour of the Princess Caroline.

A messenger arrived from England with letters and a package for the Duke of York and to his astonishment, when he opened the packet, he found a necklace and earrings set with splendid diamonds.

The Duke read the letter which accompanied them and which was signed by his father.

The King thought that the Duke of York might wish to make a present to his cousin Caroline and for this purpose he had sent him the diamonds.

The Duke looked at them speculatively for some minutes.

He took out the necklace and examined the stones. To give them to Caroline would be tantamount to making her an offer of marriage. So that was clearly what the old man had in mind. It was quite out of the question. He had no desire to marry her. Moreover, he might well be refused and that would not please the King. Would she be allowed to refuse an offer from England? She had hinted in one or two of the conversations that her father had told her she should never be forced into marriage.

He shook his head, put the necklace back into its case and carefully rewrapped the package.

He sat down and thought of returning home and the kind of woman to whom he would present the necklace. He fancied she would be rather like Mrs.

Robinson; and she would be English.

The Duke of York had left the Court of Brunswick. Many shook their heads.

Was Caroline going to reject all her hopes of marriage? What a strange girl she was! It seemed very likely that she would never marry at all.

Caroline knew they whispered of her. ‘Let him go,’ she said to the Baroness de Bode. ‘He’s a pleasant enough young man but not for me.’

The Baroness said: ‘He is the son of the King of England.’

Caroline pouted. ‘The second son.’

‘Good Heavens, is Your Highness hoping for the Prince of Wales?’

Caroline turned away with a laugh. Let them think so. Let them imagine her to be ambitious. She was ambitious— for a home with the man she loved and a large family of happy children.

And she was in love.

Under cover of dusk she slipped out to meet her Major. He was a little alarmed— for her, of course. He had declared frequently that he did not care what happened to him.

‘Silly man,’ she cried fondly. ‘My father understands me. He knows he could never force me into marriage. He will let me marry where I will.’

Then if this was so why not disclose their plans to the Duke? That was what Caroline thought; but Major von Töbingen begged her to keep their secret a little longer.

She gave way. But, she warned him, not for long. He was there waiting in the shadows— tall, mysterious in his long cloak.

She threw herself into his arms and hugged him in the unrestrained manner which while it delighted him alarmed him too.

‘I have a present for you, my dearest,’ she said. ‘It’s a token.’

She gave him the large amethyst pin which she had had made for him from one of her rings.

‘I shall expect you to wear it— always,’ she told him.

She began to talk rapidly of the future. She would speak to her father and they would be married.

‘It will never be,’ he told her in despair. ‘They will never allow a princess to marry a mere soldier!’

‘A mere soldier! You— a mere soldier! There is nothing mere about you. I love you, do you hear. I love you. That means that my father will give his consent.’

He whispered that they must speak quietly or they would be overheard.

‘Let them hear!’ Her voice rang out. ‘What does it matter? I want the whole Court to know. Why should they not? I have made up my mind.’

She was exuberant and impatient. Marriage with her Major would be perfect bliss, she told him.

‘Children— do you want children? But of course you do. Dear little children.

All our own. Every time, I go to the village to see my adopted ones I say to myself: They are lovely. I adore them. But soon I shall have little ones of my own. I cannot wait. Why should I? I am no longer a child. I must speak to my father— I must— I must— I will! ‘