to assist in my
devotions.

"Forget that I am your brother-in-law and cousin," he said; "tell me
what's in your heart, Louise, and I will pray to the good God for thee."

"Don't trouble yourself," I replied, "I have a court chaplain charged
with these affairs. Rather tell me about the latest comic opera."

"Comic opera!" he stammered. "You don't intend to go to such worldly
amusements now that you are a mother?"

"Of course I do. The very day I return to Dresden I will take a look at
your girl."

"My--what?" gasped Max.

"Your Theresa--Theresa Mayer. I understand she made a great hit in the
_Geisha_, and everybody approves of your taste, Max."

Max turned red, then green, and I thought to myself what a fool I was.
He's a favorite with the King and Queen, and my father-in-law believes
every word he says.

* * * * *

CASTLE WACHWITZ, _March 10, 1893_.

Queen Carola is a good soul though she doesn't dare call her soul her
own. I never heard her say "_peep_" in the presence of his Majesty. She
looks forlorn and frightened when King Albert is around.

I like her better since I am a mother, for she loves baby. Yes, though
she is a Queen, I saw her actually smile at the child once or twice.

Poor woman, the point of her nose is always red, and, like Father-in-law
George, she believes weeping willow the only fit emblem for royalty. The
look of the whipped dog is always in her weak eyes.

I am too young and--they _do_ say--too frivolous to stand so much
mopishness. These mustard-pots, sedate, grave, wan and long-faced, make
me mad. I don't know what to say,--all I can do is try to hide my
"un-princess-like" cheerfulness when they are around.

I wish I had an ounce or so of diplomacy in my composition. It might
enable me to sympathize with the fancied troubles of the Queen and
Prince George, but I am incorrigible.

CHAPTER IV

MY UNPLEASANT YOUTH

Father hard to get along with--Royal imaginations--Kings cursing
other kings--Poverty and pretense--Piety that makes children
suffer--Up at five to pray on cold stones--Chilblains and prayer.

CASTLE WACHWITZ, _March 11, 1893_.

It occurs to me that, if this is intended as a record of my
life--somewhat after the fashion of the _Margravine_ of Bayreuth's
Memoirs--I ought to tell about my girlhood.

Let me admit at once that my marriage to the Crown Prince of Saxony was,
politically speaking, a stroke o