she bent low in the
elaborate courtesy with which the dancers greeted their Duke. He was tall
and slight, dressed in ivory-coloured satin; his breast glittered with
magnificent orders, the broad orange ribbon of the newly instituted
Prussian order of the Black Eagle being the only variation in the uniform
whiteness of his attire. He looked the very figure of a prince of
romance, and the gentlemen who bowed before him seemed to be popinjays in
their over-gorgeous clothes.

He stood for a moment, his blue eyes flashing round the circle of
dancers, then he raised his hand in sign to the musicians to commence,
and turning to Madame de Geyling bowed profoundly. The music rang out in
the stately measure of the pavane, and the dance began: the ladies
gliding, bowing, bending, their fans raised above their heads, then
pressed to their bosoms as they bowed again; the cavaliers no whit behind
them in elegance and grace. The court of Versailles itself had not
danced better, for to dance badly meant disgrace with the Duke of
Wirtemberg.

The pavane ended, and Monsieur de Stafforth led Wilhelmine to a seat near
the dais, where she found Madame de Ruth resplendent in a green court
dress. The two ladies settled down to await the beginning of the figure
dance, in which the Duke himself was to take part. Madame de Ruth,
voluble as usual, questioned Wilhelmine closely upon the events of the
evening, and her face fell when she heard that the girl had not been
presented to his Highness--nay, more, had danced near him without his
deigning to notice her. 'Well, my dear, never mind,' said Madame de Ruth,
'the most victorious armies may suffer defeat at first.' As will be seen
by this speech, the object of Wilhelmine's campaign was no longer a
mystery, and the intriguers now spoke openly before their intended tool.
She knew that her goal was Eberhard Ludwig himself, and the future seemed
good to her since she had seen Eberhard Ludwig. Also it all spelt 'fine
clothes, fine living, fine linen, gaiety, and perhaps power,' and as she
had once said to her friend Anna Reinhard at Guestrow, without these she
could not imagine happiness. 'Mon enfant, it is serious though,' Madame
de Ruth was saying, 'the Duke never looked at you? you are sure? Ah! he
was staring at that odious Geyling, I dare swear! Lord God! how I hate
that woman! She once asked me if I had any children, and when I said
"no," she inquired if I had any grandchildren!'

Wilhelmine