n his estimation, "when will it be your pleasure to leave for
Loschwitz?"

"Tonight, if I have permission to invite Leopold for a week or so."

"Are you stark, staring mad?" shouted my husband,--"Impose conditions
after the King moderated?"

"Go and tell Baumann I'll have Leopold or all is off," I said.

Next morning: Ceremonial visit from the Queen. The tip of her nose was
redder than ever and she seemed prepared to weep at the flicking of an
eye-lash. She gave me a list of her troubles, mental, physical,
political, matrimonial and otherwise, since the day she was born, but
said: "Obedience to my father, the King, and obedience to my husband,
the King, has enabled me to weather all storms. You, too, must learn
obedience, Louise. It's women's only salvation and especially a
princess's."

I answered that I fully recognized my obligations to the King. "I only
object to being buffeted around like a piece of furniture."

"I know, I know," said the Queen, "and hope all is arranged
satisfactorily. The King will be glad if you invite your parents to
Loschwitz."

"I asked permission to invite Leopold."

"But, no doubt, your parents would take more interest in the children
than your brother."

"I don't dispute that, Your Majesty. But if my parents joined me at the
present time, people might think they came to condole with me or else to
scold me. I want Leopold."

The Queen said she wouldn't dare mention Leopold to His Majesty.

"Well, then," I concluded, "I shall stay in Dresden, regarding Baumann's
fine promises as mere talk."

The Queen went away with the air of a martyr, but three days later
Baumann came and said His Imperial Highness was welcome.

A triumph all along the line. I left Dresden without seeing the King.

Frederick Augustus is at the manoeuvres.

The Baroness is acting as my Grand Mistress.

I expect Leopold in a fortnight.

CHAPTER XXIII

A SERVANT-TYRANT

My correspondence is not safe from the malicious woman appointed
Grand Mistress--Lovers at a distance and by correspondence--Fell in
love with a leg.

LOSCHWITZ, _September 8, 1894_.

Baroness Tisch, now that she attained the height of her ambition, is
beginning to show her claws. She is an infernal cat. Her skinniness
makes her repulsive to me and her face gives everyone the impression
that she just sucked an enormous lemon. She lisps and that makes me
nervous. I feel like aping her when she isn't around.