a word of English, you couldn't distinguish
the London Times from the Hebrew At Work." After this sally, I added
maliciously: "I'm going to the Opera Comique tonight. Come along?"

"You are _not_ going to the Opera Comique," shouted Frederick Augustus.

"You don't want me to go, papa don't want me to go, uncle and aunt and
cousins don't? So many reasons more why I _shall_ go. I announced my
coming and I will go, if I have to tear the ropes, by which you might
bind me hand and foot, with my teeth."

I rang the bell and ordered dinner served half an hour earlier than
usual. Then I went to my dressing room to inspect the new gown that I
intended to wear at the theatre.

Girardi night! Girardi, the famous Vienna comedian! I never saw him. His
humor will act as a tonic. Just what I need. I will die if I breathe
none other but the air of this palace, that reeks with cheap
pretensions, Jesuitical puritanism, envy and hatred, where every second
person is a spy of either the King or George.

I must escape the polluted atmosphere for a few hours, at least, and
laugh, laugh, LAUGH.

* * * * *

11:30 P.M.

I have seen Girardi. I have laughed. I saw the Dolores. And I don't
blame Kyril a bit.

CHAPTER XVII

THE ROYAL PRINCE, WHO BEHAVES LIKE A DRUNKEN BRICKLAYER

I face the music, but my husband runs away--Prince George can't look
me in the eye--He roars and bellows--Advocates wife-beating--I defy
him--German classics--"Jew literature" _Auto da fe_ ordered.

DRESDEN, _April 2, 1894_.

Chamberlain Baron Haugk, of the service of Prince George, called at nine
A.M. and insisted upon seeing me. I sent out my Grand-Mistress, Baroness
von Tisch, to tell him that "Her Imperial Highness would graciously
permit him to wait upon her at half past ten."

"But my all-highest master commands."

I was listening in my boudoir and I went out to him only half-dressed, a
powder-mantle over my shoulders.

"Her Imperial Highness will not have her commands questioned by
servants," I said in my most haughty style. The _Kammerherr_ knocked his
heels together, bowed to the ground and retired. That's my way of
dealing with royal flunkeys, no matter what their title of courtesy.

He was back at the stroke of the clock to announce his "sublime master"
for one in the afternoon.

"I will be ready to receive his Royal Highness. My household shall be
instructed," I answered coldly, t