adually
relaxed. William Adolphus, sighing relief I doubt not (for I was
well-nigh as tedious to him as he to me), went off to his horses. I was
again encouraged to be more with Elsa, under a caution to say nothing
that could excite her. She met me with a quiet gay contentment, seemed
pleased to be with me, and was profuse and sincere in thanks for my
kindness. Sometimes now she talked of our life after we were married,
when Princess Heinrich would be gone and we alone together. She was
occupied with innocent wonderings how we should get on, and professed an
anxiety lest she should fail in keeping me amused. Then she would take
refuge in reminding herself of her many and responsible duties. She
would have nearly as much to do as I had, she said, and was not her work
really almost as important as mine?

"Princess Heinrich says that the social influence I shall wield is just
as important to the welfare of the country," she would say, with that
grave inquiring look in her pretty blue eyes.

"All the fashionable folk in Forstadt will think it much more
important," said I, laughing. "Especially the young men, Elsa."

"As if I should care about that!" she cried scornfully.

Now and then, at intervals, while I talked to her, the idea of doing
what my mother had meant by exciting her came into my head, the idea of
satisfying her unconscious longings and of fulfilling for her the dream
which had taken shape under the wand of that magician Wetter. I believed
then that I could have succeeded in the task; there may be vanity in
that opinion, but neither lapse of time nor later experience has brought
me to renounce it. Why, then, did I yield to the women's prescription,
and renounce the idea of gaining and chaining her love and her fancy
for myself? Nothing in her gives the answer to that question; it must be
sought in my mind and my temper. I believed and I believe that if I
could have stirred myself I could have stirred her. The claim is not
great; Wetter had done half the work for me, and nature was doing the
better part of the rest. I should have started with such an advantage
that the battle must have been mine. This is not merely perceived in
retrospect; it was tolerably clear to me even at the time. But the
impulse in me was wanting. I could have won, but I did not truly desire
to win. I could have given what she asked, but my own heart was a
niggard. It was from me more than from her that the restraint came; it
was with