own
Princess of this kingdom, will lower herself and respond to his demand
for a rendezvous?

Yet, how he must love me to risk saying what he did say to me. He is no
ill-balanced youth; he is a man of ripe judgment. His passion got the
better of him.

I adore passion.

I must go no more to the theatre. Impossible for me to see him nightly.

But it's a fine thing to be loved as I am. The most beautiful thing in
the wide, wide world!

* * * * *

DRESDEN, _April 27, 1897. In the Morning._

He is waiting. Doubtless he expects me. What a persuasive thing love
is, to be sure! Because he loves me, he argues that the Crown Princess,
the wife and mother, will rush to meet him, fall into his arms.

Of course, he will be most unhappy if I don't go, for I am sure he is
not your ordinary "petticoat-chaser." He will suffer, he is suffering
now while I sit here quietly.

Am I quiet? If I weren't determined to stay at home, I would half-admit
to myself that my soul is obsessed with longing for this man.

A diplomat, who has seen much of court life, assumes that a woman in my
position is at liberty to keep rendezvous! Let's reason it out.

To begin with, Lucretia has to be won over. That's easy enough, but the
coachman and lackey! They must be told that Her Imperial Highness is
graciously pleased to _walk_ in the _Bois_, the carriage waiting at the
end of the Grand Boulevard.

* * * * *

_After Luncheon._

I ought to have said to him, I won't come. It's cruel to let him wait on
a street corner and not even send notice, and to tip him off is
impossible.

And come to think of it, if Lucretia and I were promenading in the
_Bois_ and met the Count by accident, where's the harm? And if I don't
go--Good Lord, he might kill himself. He is desperate enough for that.
And he might leave letters compromising me.

I will go to give him a piece of my mind. I will be very harsh with him,
very adamant.

And I will try to find out how he manages to select always the same
theatre as I.

CHAPTER XXXVII

RAPID LOVE MAKING IN THE BOIS

A discreet maid--"Remove thy glove"--Kisses of passion, pure kisses,
powerful kisses--I see my lover daily--Countess Baranello offers
"doves' nest"--Driving to rendezvous in state--"Naughty Louise," who
makes fun of George.

DRESDEN, _June 1, 1897._

A month of untold happiness. I went to the _Bois