e picture of disgust and scorn.

"That's another thing," said she. "At least the King would not hear of
such a marriage as this."

"Do you want to marry him?" I asked Victoria, chiefly, I confess, in
curiosity. I had risen--or fallen--in some degree to my position, and it
seemed strange to me that my sister should wish to marry this Baron
Fritz.

"I--I love him, Augustin," groaned Victoria.

"She knows it's impossible, as well as you do," said my mother. "She
doesn't really want to do it."

Victoria cried quietly, but made no reply or protest. I was bewildered;
I did not understand then how we may passionately desire a thing which
we would not do, and may snatch at the opposition of others as an
excuse alike for refusal and for tears. Looking back, I do not think had
we set Victoria free in the boat, and put the sculls in her hands, that
she would have rowed over to Waldenweiter. But did she, then, deserve no
pity? Perhaps she deserved more; for not two weak creatures like the
Princess (I crave her pardon) and myself stood between her and her
wishes, but she herself--the being that she had been fashioned into, her
whole life, her nature, and her heart, as our state had made them. If
our soul be our prison, and ourself the jailer, in vain shall we plan
escape or offer bribes for freedom; wheresoever we go we carry the walls
with us, and if death, then death alone can unlock the gates.

The scene grew quieter. Victoria rose, and threw herself into a chair in
a weary, puzzled desolation; my mother sat quite still, with eyes intent
on the floor, and lips close shut. A sense of awkwardness grew strong on
me; I wanted to get out of the room. They would not fight any more now;
they would be very distant to one another; and, moreover, it seemed
clear that Victoria did not propose to marry Baron Fritz. But what about
poor Baron Fritz? I approached my mother, and whispered a question. She
answered me aloud.

"I have written to Prince von Hammerfeldt. A letter from him will, I
have no doubt, be enough to insure us against further impertinence."

Victoria dabbed her eyes, but no protest came from her.

"We shall start mid-day to-morrow," the Princess pursued, "unless, of
course, Victoria refuses to accompany me." Her voice took a tinge of
irony. "Possibly your wishes may persuade her, Augustin, if mine can
not."

Victoria raised her head suddenly, and said very distinctly:

"I will do what Augustin tells me." The empha