feet as he
acclaimed himself "King of kings" and the "true son of God." And
Juggernaut was in love with me!

I was speechless. Did he take me for a dancing girl? I narrowed my
shoulders and gave him a look of disdain. House Marshal Baron Carlowitz,
standing behind the King's chair, took in the situation and whispered to
King Albert.

The King immediately rose from table and the state dinner came to an
abrupt end.

An hour later, while I was dressing for the theatre, a big jewel box was
handed in. "From the Shah."

Despite my disgust with the fellow, I opened it in feverish haste. There
was a bracelet set with rubies, sapphires and emeralds of fabulous
size.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SHAH COMPROMISES ME IN PUBLIC

Has only eyes for me at the grand manoeuvres, and I can't drive
him from my carriage--Ignores the King and the military
spectacle--Calls me his adored one--Court in despair--Shah ruins
priceless carpets to make himself a lamb stew.

DRESDEN, _December 1, 1894_.

I am in disgrace again and that uncouth animal, the Shah, is
responsible.

The dinner episode was bad enough, but he carried on worse at the grand
parade next day.

Six or eight regiments, Horse, Foot and Artillery, had been moved to do
him honor, but he flatly refused to accept a mount for the occasion.
Like the ladies of the royal family, he drove to the parade field in a
coach and four, and no sooner did he clap eyes on me at the rendezvous
in another vehicle than he left his and shambled over to me. He stood at
the carriage door, chanting love and devotion, and if I hadn't been all
ice, I have no doubt he would have jumped in and ordered the coachman to
drive to a hotel.

Meanwhile the King trotted around the manoeuvre field in honor of his
"sublime guest." Evolutions, _Parade-marsch_, attacks, saluting the
colors, Persian and Saxon, what not? Imagine the feelings of the old
King when he rode up to the Shah's gala coach and found it empty.

The marching past had begun, and still the "King of kings" turned his
back on it all, while trying to persuade me to be Queen of his seraglio.

Our courtiers, the princes, the Queen, the generals were in despair.
They took counsel with each other, disputed, advised, got red in the
face. The Shah's gentlemen alone kept cool. They probably argued: If our
master prefers the company of a pretty woman to looking at ten thousand
men, he shows his good taste.

I tried to shake