hurriedly followed his wife and left me alone with Yolanda.

"Fraeulein, my intrusion was unintentional," I stammered. "I followed the
duke at his request."

"Fraeulein!" exclaimed the girl, lifting her head and looking a very
queen in miniature. "Fraeulein! Do you know, sir, to whom you speak?"

"I beg your pardon, most gracious princess," I replied. "Did you not
command me to address you as Fraeulein or Yolanda?"

"My name, sir, is not Yolanda. You have made a sad mistake," said the
princess, drawing herself up to her full height. Then I thought of
Yolanda's words when she told me that she resembled the princess as one
pea resembles another.

The girl trembled, and even in the dim light I could see the gleam of
anger in her eyes. I was endeavoring to frame a suitable apology when
she spoke again:--

"Fraeulein! Yolanda! Sir, your courtesy is scant to give me these names.
I do not know you, and--did I not tell you that if you made this mistake
with the princess you would not so easily correct it? That
I--you--Blessed Virgin! I have betrayed myself. I knew I should. I knew
I could not carry it out."

She covered her face with her hands and began to weep, speaking while
she sobbed:--

"My troubles are more than I can bear."

I wished to reassure her at once:--

"Most Gracious Princess--Yolanda--your secret is safe with me. You are
as dear to me as if you were my child. You have nestled in my heart and
filled it as completely as one human being can fill the heart of
another. I would gladly give my poor old life to make you happy. Now if
you can make use of me, I am at your service."

"You will not tell Sir Max?" she sobbed.

She was no longer a princess. She was the child Yolanda.

"As I hope for salvation, no, I will not tell Sir Max," I responded.

"Sometime I will give you my reasons," she said.

"I wish none," I replied.

After a short pause, she went on, still weeping gently:--

"If I must go to France, Sir Karl, you may come there to be my Lord
Chamberlain. Perhaps Max should not come, since I shall be the wife of
another, and--and there would surely be trouble. Max should not come."

She stepped quickly to my side. Her hand fell, and she grasped mine for
an instant under the folds of her cloak; then she ran from the passage,
and I went to the room where Max and Hymbercourt were waiting.

After a few moments the duke joined us. Wine was served, but Charles did
not drink. On account of the exce