ness penned a private letter to the Emperor, in which he set
forth many arguments and added passionate entreaties. In his reasoning he
quoted historical examples of a Prince's right to discard a wife for
causes of State necessity or convenience. Even Henry VIII. of England was
held up as a pattern in this! One wonders whether the Emperor had
sufficient historical learning to smile at this unfortunate reference.

Schuetz was despatched with this private missive and other intricate legal
documents.

Meanwhile the life at Urach went its usual course: hunts, feasts, music,
cards, love and laughter. Naturally those few members of the former
Wirtemberg court who had suffered themselves to be drawn into the vortex
of gaiety, now withdrew, and the Graevenitz circle grew to be more and
more the refuge of the brilliant disreputable. Adventurers flocked in
from all sides and, were they but entertaining, immediately became bright
satellites revolving round the sun of Wilhelmine's magnificence. Of
course, these personages were not welcomed by the older stars--the
Sittmanns and company; but the favourite waxed more overbearing, more
autocratic each day, and she permitted no censure of her will.

The Duchess Johanna Elizabetha was not idle; she had summoned her family
from Baden-Durlach, and they were moving heaven and earth, or rather
Vienna, in her cause.

Schuetz wrote that things were going badly for the Graevenitz: the Emperor
was obdurate, the Privy Council was stern, and public opinion strong
against the double marriage.

Johanna Elizabetha at this crisis fell ill--'of a colic,' said the court
of Urach scornfully; 'of poison,' said Stuttgart, Baden-Durlach, finally
Vienna. This was serious, wrote Schuetz. There were not wanting persons
who hinted that other inconvenient wives had died of this same class of
colic, and that the illness had been caused by the rival mistress.
Eberhard Ludwig raged, Wilhelmine laughed, but Zollern looked grave, and
spoke of the Prussian letter of royal protection, and of the beauty and
safety of Schaffhausen.

Anger gave place to anxiety, when a private letter from the Emperor to
Eberhard Ludwig arrived. It was really an unpleasant letter, and the
court, to whom its contents were communicated, felt that it was the
beginning of the end. His Majesty wrote that he gave Serenissimus one
last chance of saving the lady of his heart. She must yield at once, or
the law would proceed against her ruthle