prevented from
devoting herself to solitude and prayer. But perhaps I ought not
express an opinion on the subject. My youthful impressions, or rather
instruction, in regard to convent life, may not always have been
correct. It seems to me that woman alone should have the right to
determine as to the continuance of a convent. What do you think of it,
Countess Irma? You were educated at a convent, and Emma is your
friend."

"Yes," said Irma, "I was with my friend at Frauenwoerth, where she
desires to live, or rather to die; for life there is a daily waiting
for death. It seems terrible to me, too, to think of making what may
perhaps be only a passing mood, the irrevocable law of one's life, or a
fate from which there can be no escape. And yet many other holy
institutions are just the same. I can now see what an exalted and
difficult vocation it is to be a king. I frankly confess that if I were
now called upon to decide this matter, or to suggest a law upon the
subject, I could not arrive at a decision. Now, more than ever before,
do I realize that we women were not born to rule."

Irma's voice, although usually so clear and firm, was now veiled and
trembling. She was standing on a pinnacle where she could find no firm
footing; she looked up to the king, as if to a higher being; his
bearing was so firm, his eye so clear. She would gladly have fallen on
her knees at his feet.

"Come nearer, Count Wildenort," exclaimed the king.

Irma started. Was her father there? She was so excited that everything
seemed possible.

She had, at the moment, quite forgotten that her brother Bruno was the
king's aid-de-camp. He had been standing a little distance off, and now
approached, in order to take his leave of the queen, as he was about to
go away for some time.

The king and queen left; after which, Irma and her brother walked away.

The king's behavior seemed a riddle; but for this he had his own
reasons, the first and greatest of which was invincible distrust of
others. "Distrust all," was the great precept which had been instilled
into him from earliest youth. "One can never know what selfish purposes
may lurk behind the noblest exterior." This maxim was in accord with
one trait of the king's character. He desired to be strong in himself,
to allow no one to guide his judgment; and that is the great secret of
the heroic nature. It was this which, with all his love of freedom, had
made constitutionalism repugnant to him; for