hall not be
smirched.'

'Your pardon, Kammerjunker, but we were discussing necessities, not
ideals, and surely I proposed a great honour. Serenissimus is charming;
besides, there are others----'

The hostess, whose shadow we have seen on the ceiling, rose and joined
the three disputants.

'My friends, only fools end their conclaves with quarrels. We have been
discussing ways and means for the continuance of our friends Monsieur and
Madame de Graevenitz's court life, and finding no practical scheme, here
is Graevenitz crying out that he will return to the army. Marie Graevenitz,
after sobbing her heart out, flies into a rage and declares she will go
whining to that upstart Geyling! And you, Monsieur de Stafforth,
Hofmarshall and successful courtier, propose terms to a young husband in
so unpolished a fashion, that even a peasant would be obliged to retort
with the old affectation of a wife's honour and purity. Now hear me; I
know the court better than you do----' The darkness hid the meaning
smiles which played over the lips of the others, for Frau von Ruth
(Madame de Ruth as she was named at court, German being considered as a
language only fitting for peasants' use) was well known to have a
knowledge of court life not compatible with strictly decorous behaviour.
'Well! and I say to you, where there is a court there is always a way.
And if you will so far honour me as to drink a bowl of punch to lighten
our wits, we may find some solution of our friends' difficulties. First
let me call for lights, and let me shut out this dreary evening. Courage,
my friends! I warrant we shall smile some day at our present desperate
straits, and meanwhile "to wait" is the verb we must conjugate.'

Madame de Ruth went to the door and called for light. A sullen-faced
peasant boy appeared, carrying two silver candlesticks of a handsome old
German design. He placed them on the middle table, and the feeble yellow
flame of the waxen tapers shed a flicker into the long, gloomy room. Then
he stood idly staring, with the heavy dull-wittedness of the Swabian
peasant. Madame de Ruth eyed him for a moment, with that half-humorous,
half-pitying glance which she was wont to bestow on those she found
stupid. She was an odd-tempered, free-mannered woman, deeply crafty,
absolutely unmoral, and yet with a true kindliness of heart and a
thorough understanding of human nature which, together with her ready
laugh, her clever, indecorous anecdotes and sh