Duke of Marlborough, the hero
thereof, a sorry figure, as the reluctant victim of a lady of Ingolstadt,
whose advances he refused, trembling lest his haughty Sarah should hear
of it and give him a sound rating on his return to England. The anecdote
was broad, to say the least, and sure it did not lose in the telling. 'A
great captain, but sorely afraid of his lady!' finished Graevenitz with a
loud laugh.

'It is the privilege of the truly brave to tremble before beauty and
gentleness,' said Zollern sharply.

'The prerogative of fools to set them at naught,' he added in a low voice
to Madame de Ruth. There was a pause. Graevenitz himself, who should have
been uncomfortable, seemed to notice nothing, but the rest of the company
felt the moment to be one of difficulty. Stafforth offered his arm to
Wilhelmine and proposed a short stroll through the garden to the orchard;
and the girl, glad to escape the spectacle of her brother's swaggering
tactlessness, accepted, and they walked away together beneath the tender
green of the beech-trees.

The orchard was an enchanted spot, such a marvel of blossom overhead,
like rose-tinted foam, while under foot the grass was full of spring
flowers, the cow-parsley sending up a delicious faint fragrance, mingled
with the smell of the earth wet from the night's rain. Stafforth found a
stack of orchard poles, and dragging from beneath the heap the dryest of
them, he arranged a resting-place for Wilhelmine. They sat down, and he
recounted stories of court life in general and of Stuttgart in
particular. He portrayed the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, a Princess of
Baden-Durlach by birth. He told of her good qualities, but also of her
dullness; of her eternal jealousy of her husband, Eberhard Ludwig, Duke
of Wirtemberg; of how the Duke sought entertainment with other ladies,
but that the reign of each was short-lived, for the Duke really had a
faithful soul and returned to his excellent, wearisome spouse. How a
Madame de Geyling was queen of the present hour; that she was a foolish
woman with a bad temper, who offended the courtiers and rated the Duke;
of how the court expected an imminent change of affection, but that no
one could imagine who the new favourite would be. He told her that the
Duke was a brilliant soldier, the friend and companion-in-arms of his
Grace of Marlborough, a polished courtier too, the finest dancer of his
day, and a very Phaeton with horses. Withal a man of learning an