ely
necessary that he does."

"But not--that I submit to prostitution. I will give him a dinner, but
he will drive back to Dresden immediately afterwards."

Frederick Augustus brought numerous presents for me. "You may place them
under the Christmas tree," I ordered the Tisch.

"Oh, Your Imperial Highness, look," cried the Tisch, holding up
something or other.

I turned my back on her and looked out of the window. I never went near
my end of the Christmas table. "You will send the things brought by His
Royal Highness to the bazaar for crippled children," I told the House
Marshal. "They shall be sold for the benefit of the poor."

* * * * *

LOSCHWITZ, _January 1, 1902_.

"Her Imperial Highness regrets."

I refused the invitations to today's family dinner; the grand reception,
_Te Deum_ and parade. "Unprecedented affront!" What do I care!

I have eighteen horses, half-a-dozen carriages, I drive, I ride, I hunt,
I give the Tisch palpitation daily by the literature I affect: _Zola_,
_Flaubert_, _M'lle Paul_, _Ma Femme_, _M'lle de Maupin_, _Casanova_,
_M'me Bovary_. And the periodicals I subscribed for! _Simplicissimus_,
Harden's _Zukunft_, all the _double entendre_ weeklies and monthlies of
Paris. May Prince George and Mathilde burst with rage and envy when they
hear of my excursions in the realms of the literary Satans.

* * * * *

LOSCHWITZ, _January 15, 1902_.

The Tisch is beginning to treat me like a person irresponsible for her
doings. Sonnenstein is looming up anew. But I am going to fool her. As I
will hold no more speech with her, there will be no occasion for turning
my own words against me.

If I have to give a command, or answer a question, I ask Lucretia or
_Fraeulein_ von Schoenberg to convey my orders.

* * * * *

LOSCHWITZ, _March 20, 1902_.

An uneventful winter is drawing to a close. By banishing myself to this
quiet place I raised a barrier against quarrels, against harsh orders,
against humiliations. And the barrier also shuts out: love, happiness.

Sometimes, when the Tisch's hateful mouth spouts honeyed platitudes, I
ask myself whether the affair with Henry wasn't, after all, a
flower-covered pit dug for me by my enemies.

It was the Tisch who had Henry appointed _Vortaenzer_.

Maybe, knowing my inflammable heart, she offered the tempting bait
solely to the end of getting me