avely.

"There can never be any to spare," she said. "And you would do well to
remember your office."

"What do you mean?" he asked, absently.

"That you have many enemies; that you can not live at court with a
jaundiced countenance. Heigh-ho! Alackaday! You should hie yourself
back to the woods and barren wastes of Friedwald, Master Fool."

Her sparkling glance returned to the exhilarating scene. Well had the
assemblage been called a court of love. Now soft eyes invited burning
glances, and graceful heads swayed alluringly toward the handsome
cavaliers who momentarily had found lodgment in hearts which, like
palaces, had many ante-chambers. From hidden recesses, strains of
music filled the room with tinkling passages of sensuous, but illusive,
harmony; a dream of ardor, masked in the daintiness of a minuet.

Upon the back of the princess' chair rested one of the duke's hands;
with the other he lifted his glass--a frail thing in fingers better
adapted for a sword-hilt or massive battle mace.

"Drink, Princess," he said, bending over her, "to--our meeting!"

Her eyelids fluttered before his look; her breast rose a little. The
scar on his brow held her gaze, as one fascinated, but she drew away
slightly and mechanically sought the tiny golden goblet at her elbow.
Dreamily, dreamily, sounded the rhythmical music; heavily, so heavily
hung the perfume in the air! Full of mist seemed the hall; the king,
the queen, the countess, all of the party, unreal, fanciful. The touch
of the goblet chilled her lips and she put it down quickly.

"Is not the wine to your liking?" he asked, his hand tightening on her
chair. "Perhaps it is too sour for your taste?"

"Nay; I thought it rather sweet," she answered. "Oh, I meant not
that--"

"It _is_ sweet wine, Princess," he said, setting down an empty glass.
"Sweeter than our Austrian vintage. Not white and thin and watery, but
red--red as blood--red as your heart's blood--or mine--"

Crash! from the hand of the duke's jester had fallen a goblet to the
floor. The princess started, turned; for a moment their glances
bridged the distance from where she sat, to the fools' end of the
table; then hers slowly fell; slowly, and she passed a hand, whereon
shone the king's ring, across her brow; looked up, as though once more
to span infinity with her gaze, when her eyes fell short and met the
duke's. Deliberately he lifted his filled glass.

"Red as your heart's blood--an