n enough to make me indifferently easy, at least.
We had tarried overtime with the King, and, so, were the last to reach
the Hall. At the door Cosgrove joined us and under his guidance we
made our way to the diplomatic line. Scarcely were we there when His
Majesty and the Princess Royal were announced and between the ranks of
bowing guests they passed to the throne. As Frederick stepped upon the
dais there arose spontaneously the shout, thrice repeated:

"Long live the King!"

And then someone cried:--

"Long live Dalberg!" And the throng joined in it twice again.

How the King acknowledged it I do not know. My whole attention was
given to the Princess. It was my first good view of her since the day
I had acted as substitute groom. For the bad few minutes lately passed
had been given over to labial and mental sensations to the exclusion of
the ocular. Now I had more leisure while those ranking and senior to
Courtney made their felicitations upon the royal birthday.

She was little changed from my lady of the forest; only a bit more
roundness to the figure and maturity in the face, particularly about
the set of the mouth when in repose. Otherwise, she was the same
charming woman who had smiled me into subjection six years before.
Beautiful? Of course; but do not ask me for description, other than
that she was medium in height, willowy in figure and dark blonde in
type. With that outline your imagination must fill in the rest. Words
only caricature a glorious woman.

When it came our turn, the King seemed to make it a point to greet me
with marked cordiality; not waiting for my name to be announced, but
stepping over to the edge of the dais to meet me and holding me in
conversation an unusual time. It was noticed to the Court that I had
the royal favor.

Then, with the quiet aside: "It's all explained," he passed me over to
the Princess.

She was talking with Courtney, and turned and met me with a smile.

"Let us shake hands and be friends, cousin," she said.

The graciousness of the gesture, was plain enough to the whole room,
but the words reached only Courtney and me.

"I don't deserve it--cousin," I said; but I took her hand, none the
less.

Then, after a word more, we gave place to those that followed us. But,
as I bowed away, she said low: "The sixth dance, cousin."

And so I knew my peace was made.

I looked for some banter from Courtney, but there was none; only a bit
of a smile und