ia," said the count,
earnestly. "Look at this poem, that the King of Prussia has written of
me. Truly, there is no flattery in it."

While reading, the countess's countenance was perfectly clear; not the
slightest cloud was to be seen upon her brow.

"Do you not think it a good poem?" said she, indifferently.

"Well," said he, "I must acknowledge that there was a certain fire in it
that touched my heart."

"I find it stupid," said she, sternly. "There is but one thing in it
that pleases me, and that is the title-'il ne faut pas s'inquieter de
l'avenir.' The little King of Prussia has done well to choose this for
his motto, for without it, it strikes me, his peace would be forever
gone, for his future will surely be a humiliating one."

The count laughed.

"How true that is!" said he "and a just answer to his stupid poem. Speak
of something else."

He tore the paper into small pieces, which, with a graceful bow, he laid
at the feet of the countess.

"A small sacrifice," said he, "which I bring to my goddess. Tread upon
it, and destroy the king's words with your fairy foot." The countess
obeyed him, laughingly.

"But now, count," said she, "we will, for a moment, speak of graver
things. I have received letters from Loudon-from our son. Poor Henry
is in despair, and he has requested me to intercede for him. You were
always very stern with him, my friend, therefore he fears your anger,
now that he has been a little imprudent."

"Well, what is it?" said the count; "I hope it is no duel, for that
would make me extremely angry."

"It is nothing of that kind. His imprudence is of another sort, He is in
want of money."

"Money!" said the count, in amazement; "why, barely a month ago, I sent
him six hundred thousand thalers. That, and what he took with him, three
months ago, is quite a large sum, for it amounts to more than a million
of thalers."

"But, my dear husband, in England every thing is so dear! and there, to
move amongst and impress those rich lords, he must really have more. It
seems that our Charles Joseph has fallen in love with a lady whom all
Loudon worships for her surpassing beauty. But she, having a cold heart,
will listen to no one. She laughs at those who flatter her, and will
receive no presents. She seemed an invincible fortress, but our son,
thanks to stratagem, has taken it."

"I am curious to know how," said the count, laughing.

"He played a game of ecarte with her. He played for note