ce lies in his being able to do good at any moment?"

"I understand that quite well," answered Walpurga. "A king is like the
sun which shines down on all, and refreshes the trees near by, as well
as the flowers in the distant, hidden valley; it does good to men and
beast and everything. Such a king is a messenger from God; but he must
be careful to remain one, for being lord over all pride and lust may
overpower him. He's just given life to Thomas, and all the prison doors
open as they do in the fable when they say: '_Open sesame_,' Oh, you
good king! don't let them spoil you, and always have such kindhearted
people about you as my Countess Irma."

"Thanks," said Irma. "I now know you perfectly. Believe me, all the
books in the world contain nothing better and nothing more than does
your heart; and, although you cannot write, it has been so much the
more plainly written there.--But let us be quiet and sensible. Come,
you must take your writing lesson."

They sat down together, and Irma taught Walpurga how to use the pen.
Walpurga said that she did not care to write single letters, and that
she would prefer having a word to copy.

Irma wrote the word "pardon" for her. Walpurga filled a whole sheet
with that word, and when Irma left the room, she took the writing with
her, saying:

"I shall preserve this as a memento of this hour."

CHAPTER III.

"What can be the matter with the queen?--"

--"Her majesty," added Mademoiselle Kramer.

--"What can it be?" said Walpurga; "for some days, the prince--"

"His royal highness," said Mademoiselle Kramer.

--"Has hardly been noticed by her. Before that, whenever she saw the
child and held it to her heart, she always seemed lifted up to the
skies, and once said to me: 'Walpurga, didn't it make you feel as if
you'd become a girl again, free and independent of everything? To me,
the world is nothing but myself and my child'--and now she hardly looks
at it, just as if her having had a child were a dream. There must be
great trouble in a mother's heart--"

"Royal mother," said Mademoiselle Kramer.

--"When she doesn't care to look at her child."

The queen's heart was, in truth, torn by a mighty struggle.

Her feelings had, for months past, been of a most distressing and
excited nature. There was one point on which she dared not even think
aloud, and which she would have thought profaned by speaking of it to
others. It was her wish