back, save Zollern, who came forward and, bowing over the bride's hand,
remarked: 'To every beautiful woman should be rendered homage.' It was an
adroit compromise, half reminder, half graceful, tactful compliment, for
naturally a Prince of his house could not be expected to pay royal
honours to any Countess of Urach--or even Duchess of Wirtemberg, save
from courtesy or worldly wisdom. Stafforth, the adventurer, had an ugly
sneer on his countenance, and was evidently embarrassed, so took refuge
in the frequent attitude of the vulgar when ill at ease--a noisy
jocularity.

'Ha! ha!' he laughed boisterously, 'and now for the wedding feast! Bride
and bridegroom, come along--and we'll have a song to cheer us!'

Friedrich Graevenitz, full of fictitious emotion, was kissing his sister's
hand repeatedly, and making little speeches to her, the beauty of which
moved him almost to tears; though when he saw no one was admiring him, he
retired in aggrieved silence, thinking 'What a bad spirit these people
show towards me!'

Marie Graevenitz stiffly congratulated her sister-in-law, and pressed a
meagre cheekbone against Wilhelmine's glowing face; she called this a
kiss. Pfahler bowed before the bride: 'I have had the honour to meet your
Highness,'--Wilhelmine started, Zollern tapped with his stick
impatiently--'to meet your Highness before--one day at Tuebingen; but your
Highness could not recollect. I had no idea then that I was speaking with
so exalted a lady.'

'Nor were you then,' said Wilhelmine with that bright humorous smile of
hers; 'but indeed, Hochwuerden, I do remember, and I recollect how you
told me of the history of master races cradled in the Swabian hills.'

'I have assisted to-day at a great historic scene. May a new race of
strong men and princes arise herefrom!' said Pfahler, the historic
dreamer.

'Umph! ces bourgeois heretiques ne savent jamais trouver le juste
milieu,' growled Zollern to Madame de Ruth.

Now his Highness became impatient, the embarrassment of the scene seemed
to grow each moment. 'A thousand thanks, dear friend,' he said, turning
to Madame de Ruth, 'a thousand thanks for all you have done for us, but
we must leave you now. Come, bid us God-speed!' He led the way from the
panelled room to the house door, before which stood a chaise de poste
with six horses, which the three postillions restrained with difficulty.
Dressed in his fine new coat, the peasant servant of Neuhaus stood
grinning i