low in
proud submission to the honours cast on him by his acclaiming soldiery.
His three-cornered lace hat, curled wig, heavy-trimmed surcoat, and high
boots, reminded me of Prince Eugene. No Prince Eugene--nay, nor
Marlborough, had such a martial figure, such an animated high old
warrior's visage. The bronze features reeked of battle.

Temple and I felt humiliated (without cause, I granted) at the success of
a work of Art that struck us as a new military triumph of these Germans,
and it was impossible not to admire it. The little Princess Ottilia
clapped hands by fits. What words she addressed to me I know not. I dealt
out my stock of German--'Ja, ja--to her English. We were drawn by her to
congratulate the margravine, whose hand was then being kissed by the
prince: he did it most courteously and affectionately. Other gentlemen,
counts and barons, bowed over her hand. Ladies, according to their rank
and privileges, saluted her on the cheek or in some graceful fashion.
When our turn arrived, Miss Sibley translated for us, and as we were at
concert pitch we did not acquit ourselves badly. Temple's remark was,
that he wished she and all her family had been English. Nothing was left
for me to say but that the margravine almost made us wish we had been
German.

Smiling cordially, the margravine spoke, Miss Sibley translated:

'Her Royal Highness asks you if you have seen your father?'

I shook my head.

The Princess Ottilia translated, 'Her Highness, my good aunt, would know,
would you know him, did you see him?'

'Yes, anywhere,' I cried.

The margravine pushed me back with a gesture.

'Yes, your Highness, on my honour; anywhere on earth!'

She declined to hear the translation.

Her insulting disbelief in my ability to recognize the father I had come
so far to embrace would have vexed me but for the wretched thought that I
was losing him again. We threaded the carriages; gazed at the horsemen in
a way to pierce the hair on their faces. The little princess came on us
hurriedly.

'Here, see, are the horses. I will you to mount. Are they not pretty
animals?' She whispered, 'I believe your fater have been hurt in his mind
by something. It is only perhaps. Now mount, for de Markgrafin says you
are our good guests.'

We mounted simply to show that we could mount, for we would rather have
been on foot, and drew up close to the right of the margravine's
carriage.

'Hush! a poet is reading his ode,' said the prince