it, to make it irreparable."

"A Portia to the judgment!" said the chancellor, his eye kindling. "Let
it all rest upon my shoulders. I alone am to blame. It was I who first
suggested the alliance. We all have dreams, active or passive, futile or
purposeful. My ambition was to bring about a real and lasting peace.
Your Highness, I have failed signally. There is nothing to do now but to
appoint my successor." All the chancellor's force and immobility of
countenance gave way, and he looked the broken man.

Notwithstanding that he was generally hasty, the duke was a just man. In
his heart of hearts he understood. He offered his hand, with half a
smile; and when he smiled he was a handsome old man.

"You are bidding me farewell, your Highness?" said Herbeck.

"No, Count. I would not let you go for half my duchy. What should I do
without your solid common sense? No; remain; we are both of us too old
to quarrel. Even a duke may be a fool sometimes."

Herbeck laid his cold hand upon the duke's. Then he went over to her
highness and kissed her hand gratefully, for it was truly at her feet
the wreath of victory lay.

"Highness," he said softly, "you are the fairest, finest princess in the
world, and you shall marry when you will."

"And where?"

"I would that I could make it so. But there is a penalty for being
placed so high. We can not change this unwritten law."

"Heaven did not write it," she replied.

"No, my daughter," said the duke. "Man is at the bottom of all the kinks
and twists in this short life; not Heaven. But Herbeck is right; you
shall marry _when_ you will."

She sprang into his arms and kissed him. It was, however, a traitorous
kiss; for she was saying in her heart that now she would never marry.
Herbeck's eyes wandered to the portrait over the fireplace. It was the
girl's mother.

The knock of the valet was again heard.

"Your Highness, there is a young woman, a peasant, who desires to speak
to her serene highness."

"Where is she?" asked the duke.

"She is outside, your Highness."

"What! She enters the palace without any more trouble than this?"

"By my orders, father," said Hildegarde, who gathered that this
privileged visitor must be Gretchen of the Krumerweg. "Admit her."

"Truly we are becoming socialists," said the duke, appealing to Herbeck,
who replied with his usual grim smile.

Gretchen was ushered in. Her throat was a little full as she recognized
the three most important per