nd Rudolf the Fifth was crowned King; of which imposing ceremony an
excellent picture hangs now in my dining-room. The portrait of the King
is very good.

Then the lady with the pale face and the glorious hair, her train held
by two pages, stepped from her place and came to where I stood. And a
herald cried:

"Her Royal Highness the Princess Flavia!"

She curtsied low, and put her hand under mine and raised my hand and
kissed it. And for an instant I thought what I had best do. Then I
drew her to me and kissed her twice on the cheek, and she blushed red,
and--then his Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop slipped in front of Black
Michael, and kissed my hand and presented me with a letter from the
Pope--the first and last which I have received from that exalted
quarter!

And then came the Duke of Strelsau. His step trembled, I swear, and
he looked to the right and to the left, as a man looks who thinks on
flight; and his face was patched with red and white, and his hand shook
so that it jumped under mine, and I felt his lips dry and parched. And
I glanced at Sapt, who was smiling again into his beard, and, resolutely
doing my duty in that station of life to which I had been marvellously
called, I took my dear Michael by both hands and kissed him on the
cheek. I think we were both glad when that was over!

But neither in the face of the princess nor in that of any other did I
see the least doubt or questioning. Yet, had I and the King stood side
by side, she could have told us in an instant, or, at least, on a little
consideration. But neither she nor anyone else dreamed or imagined that
I could be other than the King. So the likeness served, and for an hour
I stood there, feeling as weary and blase as though I had been a king
all my life; and everybody kissed my hand, and the ambassadors paid me
their respects, among them old Lord Topham, at whose house in Grosvenor
Square I had danced a score of times. Thank heaven, the old man was as
blind as a bat, and did not claim my acquaintance.

Then back we went through the streets to the Palace, and I heard them
cheering Black Michael; but he, Fritz told me, sat biting his nails like
a man in a reverie, and even his own friends said that he should have
made a braver show. I was in a carriage now, side by side with the
Princess Flavia, and a rough fellow cried out:

"And when's the wedding?" and as he spoke another struck him in the
face, crying "Long live Duke Michael!" and