frightened me. I might forgive him the lie, but what
is he doing with the money?

Spending it on lewd women like Bernhardt, I suppose.

I said: "Oh," and Madame von Vitzthum seemed to catch its significance.
It occurred to her at once that she had said too much and she tried to
minimize her brother's delinquencies. But I know.

Maybe some of my money went to pay hotel expenses for----

* * * * *

_At Midnight._

My cousin Richelieu caused his mistresses to be painted in all sorts of
monastic garments and licentious devices, saying: "I have my saints and
martyrs; they are all that; but, as for virgins, there are none outside
of Paradise." Substitute _paillards_ for the holy ones and you have the
situation in a nutshell.

The Vitzthums are panderers. They always manage to leave me alone with
Henry. When we are a-wheel, they ride a mile ahead; while playing tennis
one or the other aims the ball, every little while, to enter the open
window of a summer-house, where my lover and I can exchange a few rapid
kisses. When we are driving, without coachman or groom, of course, they
always "feel like walking a bit," while Henry and I remain in the
carriage.

The same at the house, on the veranda. They are always _de trop_.
Vitzthum even sacrifices himself to the extent of paying court to the
Tisch and engaging her entire attention, if it must be. He reminds me of
a certain colonel of the French army during the Regency.

"_Monseigneur_," said this gentleman to my cousin d'Orleans, "permit me
to employ my regiment as a guard for my wife, and I swear to you that
nobody shall go near her but Your Highness."

Of course, it's very lovely of them, but rather emphasizes the poor
opinion I have of the nobility.

Your nobleman and noblewoman adopt all tones, all airs, all masks, all
allures, frank and false, flattering and brutal, choleric or mild,
virtuous or bawdy--anything as long as it makes for their profit. Some
months ago I met at the Dresden court the Dowager Countess Julie
Feodorowna of Pappenheim, who told everybody she could persuade to
listen that her eldest son, Max Albrecht, had to resign the succession,
because he married beneath him, an American heiress, Miss Wheeler of
Philadelphia.

"Then you despise money?" I queried with a malicious thought just
entering my head.

"Not exactly, Your Imperial Highness," she said, "but our house
laws----"

"Those funny house laws," I sm