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As we walked across to Pancaldi's baths she told her new maid to go on in front, and in a few quick words explained. "I arrived direct from Paris this morning. Here, I am the Princess Helen of Dornbach-Laxenburg of the Ringstrasse, in Vienna, the Schloss Kirchbüchl, on the Drave, and Avenue des Champs Elysées, Paris, a Frenchwoman married to an Austrian.
To leave might arouse suspicion." "Have not the police questioned Rosalie?" "Certainly. But they have no suspicion of the maid of Princess Helen of Dornbach-Laxenburg. How could they? Especially as the Prefect and his wife were my guests at dinner last night!" "Well," I declared, "the way the whole affair has been managed is perfectly artistic." "Of course," she said. "We do not blunder.
The local papers that morning had announced that Her Highness the Princess Helen of Dornbach-Laxenburg, one of the most beautiful women in Europe, had "descended" at the Palace Hotel, and had been seen at Pancaldi's later in the afternoon. "As soon as I came down this morning I was pounced upon for information," I explained.
Paste they were, of course, but none of the women who sat with their eyes upon her even dreamed that they were anything but the family jewels of the princely house of Dornbach-Laxenburg. Her manner and bearing were distinctly that of a patrician, and I saw that all in the hotel were dying to know her. Yes, Her Highness was already a great success.
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