--"

"I wonder if you could!" she said with a sudden flush. "No, it's no
use," she went on. "And it's nothing. Augustin, if you tell mother you
found me crying, I'll never----"

"You know quite well that I never tell anybody anything," said I, rather
offended.

"Then go away, dear," urged Victoria.

I went away. I had been feeling very lonely myself, and had sought out
Victoria for company's sake. However, I went and walked alone down to
the edge of the river. It was clear that Victoria did not want me, and
apparently I could do nothing for her. I have never found myself able to
do very much for people, except those who did not deserve to have
anything done for them. Perhaps poor Victoria didn't, but I was not
aware of her demerits then. I repeated to the river my old reflection:
"I don't see that it's much use being king, you know," said I as I flung
a pebble and looked across at the towers of Waldenweiter. "That fellow's
better off than I am," said I; and I wished again that Victoria had not
sent me away. There is a period of life during which one is always
being sent away, and it is not quite over for me yet in spite of my
dignity.

At last came the crash. A little carelessness born of habit and
impunity, the treachery of the old boatman under the temptation of a
gold piece, the girl's lack of _savoir faire_ when charged with the
offence--here was enough, and more than enough. I recollect being
summoned to my mother's room late one evening, just about my bedtime. I
went and found her alone with Victoria. The Princess sat in her great
arm-chair; Victoria was leaning against the wall when I entered; her
handkerchief was crushed in one hand, the other hand clenched by her
side.

"Augustin," said the Princess, "Victoria and I go to Biarritz
to-morrow."

Victoria's quick breathing was her only comment. My mother told me in
brief, curt, offensive phrases that Victoria had been carrying on a
flirtation with our opposite neighbour. I have no doubt that I looked
surprised.

"You may well wonder!" cried my mother. "If she could not remember what
she was herself, she might have remembered that the King was her
brother."

"I've done nothing----" Victoria began.

"Hold your tongue," said my mother. "If you were in Styria, instead of
here, you'd be locked up in your own room for a month on bread and
water; yes, you may think yourself lucky that I only take you to
Biarritz."

"Styria!" said Victoria with a very bit