ause after her Excellency's speech.

'I do not purpose to be present at the official reception, Madame,' said
the Erbprincessin, 'and I had understood that your Excellency also would
remain away.'

'Your Highness has been misinformed,' returned the Landhofmeisterin
icily. 'We start, as I have had the honour to tell you, at nine of the
clock to-morrow morning. I wish you would accompany me in my coach,
Prince Friedrich, it would be a happiness to me to have your protection.
May I count on you?' She turned to him with her wonderful smile.
Friedrich Ludwig had a place in her affection, and though he never
visited her at Favorite or Freudenthal, which wounded her deeply, she
bore him no malice.

'In truth, Madame, I shall be proud to escort you in your coach
to-morrow. At nine of the clock?' And he bade her good rest. He was
grateful to her for thus making it seem a courtesy to her that he should
consent to drive instead of riding to the review, for the doctor had told
him that evening that he could not ride, and he felt so weak and giddy
after his swoon that he knew he dared not mount a horse. The
Erbprincessin shot a veiled look of hatred at the Landhofmeisterin. How
well the evil woman knew how to cajole men to her will!

The Landhofmeisterin repaired to her pavilion, and Maria assisted her to
bed. Such a ceremony it was, this retiring to rest of the
Landhofmeisterin! Such a profusion of delicious essences; all the
perfumes of Araby were used, and she donned the fairest raiment of fine
linen. According to custom, Maria left her fastidious mistress ready for
sleep and reading a heavy tome of old-world magic by the light of two
tall waxen tapers.

Hardly had the maid's footsteps ceased to echo on the stone steps of the
pavilion, when the Graevenitz flung aside the book and, rising from her
chair, listened attentively. Only the monotonous tramp of the sentries in
the courtyard, and, more faintly, the same sound from the guards on the
north terrace. Still her Excellency listened. Alas! for how many nights
of late had she hearkened in vain for the click of the little key in the
door from the statue gallery? Eberhard Ludwig never came to her, and as
she stood listening her heart bled in anguish for the love that was no
more. Could such love really die? she asked herself. If it could, then
the vows Eberhard Ludwig had spoken were mockery. Had she built her life
on so insecure a foundation? The whole fabric of her being was