ful. Though his hand trembled constantly from an attack of palsy, I
don't know now how many times he pierced the centre of the ace of hearts.

It was Hartmann, too, who constantly urged me to write. With all due
regard for science, he said he could not admit its right to prison poesy
when the latter showed so strong an impulse towards expression. I
secretly admitted the truth of his remark, but whenever I yielded to the
impulse to write I felt as if I were being disloyal to the mistress to
whom I had devoted all my physical and mental powers.

The conflict which for a long time stirred my whole soul began. I could
say much more of the first years I spent at Wildbad, but up to the fifth
season they bore too much resemblance to one another to be described in
detail.

A more brilliant summer than that of 1860 the quiet valley of the Enz
will hardly witness again, for during that season the invalid widow of
the Czar Nicholas of Russia came to the springs with a numerous suite,
and her presence attracted many other crowned heads--the King of Prussia,
afterwards the Emperor William I, her royal brother; her beautiful
daughter, Queen Olga of Wurtemberg, who, when she walked through the
grounds with her greyhound, called to mind the haughty Artemis; the Queen
of Bavaria--But I will not enumerate all the royal personages who visited
the Czarina, and whose presence gave the little town in the Black Forest
an atmosphere of life and brilliancy. Not a day passed without affording
some special feast for the eyes.

The Czarina admired beauty, and therefore among her attendants were many,
ladies who possessed unusual attractions. When they were seated in a
group on the steps of the hotel the picture was one never to be
forgotten. A still more striking spectacle was afforded by a voyage made
on the Enz by the ladies of the Czarina's court, attired in airy summer
dresses and adorned with a lavish abundance of flowers. From the shore
gentlemen flung them blossoms as they were borne swiftly down the
mountain stream. I, too, had obtained some roses, intended especially for
Princess Marie von Leuchtenberg, of whom the Czarina's physician, Dr.
Karel, whose acquaintance we made at the Burckhardts, had told so many
charming anecdotes that we could not help admiring her.

We also met a very beautiful Countess Keller, one of the Czarina's
attendants, and I can still see distinctly the brilliant scene of her
departure.

Wildbad was not then