Yet his assurance did not desert him.
"A stupid bit of play-acting!" he exclaimed, throwing the letter down on the table.
"But whose interest could it have been to indulge in play-acting at my expense ?" asked Blanka.
"I can tell you, for I recognise the handwriting.

The Marchioness Caldariva wrote you that letter." "The Marchioness Caldariva?
Is she here ?" "To be sure.

The prince never travels without her." "But what motive had she thus to injure herself and, perhaps, prevent her marriage with the prince ?" "Motive enough for a woman," replied Vajdar,--"jealousy." "Jealousy!" repeated Blanka, in astonishment.
But one glance at the face confronting her was a sufficient explanation.
That handsome face, smiling with triumph and self-confidence, made her tingle with wrath and scorn from head to foot.

This man, it appeared, was impudent enough to play the role of suitor to his patron's wife, and also, at the same time, to pose as the object of a sentimental attachment on the part of that patron's mistress.

And he smiled complacently the while.
"Sir," resumed the princess, whom that smile so irritated that she resolved to use her deadly weapon without further delay, "I appreciate your devotion to my cause, but I cannot deceive you.