the night, and the
Landhofmeisterin rose from her cramped, kneeling position and took her
way back to her apartments. A cruel foreknowledge of disaster
overshadowed her; something unusual, elusively sinister, haunted her.

As she passed his Highness's door she hesitated. Should she go in bravely
and speak her fear to him? Pride forbade, and a certain sense of
hopelessness. She drew herself up proudly. No, he loved her; how could
he change after twenty years? He could not escape her, for she was his
life; all his memories were hers, his past, his present; therefore she
argued, as a woman always argues, his future too must be hers.

She passed into her apartments and, opening her window, leaned far out.
How silent it was in the garden! The moonlight played gently over the
terraces, only the splash of the fountains broke the stillness. The air
was delicious, scented with freshness, and after the noisome fumes of
wine, beer, victuals, and tobacco in the banqueting-hall, she thought the
night air was laden with rose fragrance. So it had been on that far-off
night in the Stuttgart palace gardens after the theatricals. Time had not
played havoc then with Nature. How weary she was! Suddenly a moan in the
room behind her attracted her attention. She started nervously, and, as
usual, the thought of the White Lady worked in her mind. They said the
poor ghost moaned when death drew near to any of her descendants, and she
was Eberhard Ludwig's ancestress. The Landhofmeisterin dared not turn her
head for fear she should see a tall, white, shrouded figure with
bloodstained hands. Again the moan.

'Who is there?' the Landhofmeisterin said tremulously.

'Pardon, Madame, you said I was to await you.' It was only the dwarf,
then. Her Excellency almost laughed in her relief.

'Ah! I had forgotten you. Well, tell me your story now. I am listening,'
she said. It would serve to pass the time till his Highness came, for he
would come, she told herself.

The dwarf stood trembling before her, ridiculous, grotesque, infinitely
pathetic. He poured forth the tale of his miserable life, of the taunts,
the jeers, the kicks, the cuffs, the lack of food which he had often
suffered in the midst of the lavish splendour of Ludwigsburg.
Incidentally he let her see how the very servants of the palace spoke of
her, and how they mocked her authority when they dared.

His was a pitiful life-history, and the Landhofmeisterin was moved to
compassion; her