drove himself with eight magnificent spirited
horses. True, his Highness never failed to send his consort a courteous
invitation to join the feast at some Jagd Schloss in the forest; but she
invariably refused, alleging that she was weary, that her head ached, or
that she would fain rest, for she guessed that Wilhelmine would be there.

Unrest was in Wilhelmine's heart also. She still held back from giving
herself to Eberhard Ludwig, and the future seemed to her dark and
difficult. She knew she loved his Highness, but both her sincere love and
her indomitable pride revolted at the thought of becoming a mere toy, a
mistress to be thrown aside whenever the Duke's whim dictated. A
thousand times she told herself that this would never happen, that
Eberhard Ludwig loved her with a true and lasting passion, yet a wave of
haughty doubt swept over her and kept her back. One day it was announced
from the castle that her Highness had commanded a famous troupe of
Italian musicians to perform a series of madrigals before the court. The
Duchess caused a summons to be issued to members of the court at
Stuttgart, adding, however, that no foreign visitors could be invited,
the concert being strictly private. This was a direct insult to
Wilhelmine, for she was the only foreign visitor in Stuttgart. Stafforth
announced this news to his Highness, Madame de Ruth, and Wilhelmine as
they sat at supper beneath the beech-tree in the Stafforth garden. A
silence fell upon the party. Madame de Ruth leaned back in her chair,
fanning herself gently; Eberhard Ludwig turned to Wilhelmine, his face
had flushed deeply, and it was with an unsteady voice that he said:

'Mademoiselle, I formally invite you to hear the music to-morrow evening
at my castle of Stuttgart. Her Highness, my honoured wife, will gladly
make an exception in her arrangements for so famous a musician as
yourself.'

'Monseigneur,' broke in Stafforth hurriedly, 'I fear your Highness
cannot----'

Eberhard Ludwig silenced him with a look, and turning to Wilhelmine he
said, almost sternly: 'I await the honour, Mademoiselle, of your answer,
which I shall carry myself to her Highness.'

Wilhelmine rose.

'Monseigneur,' she said, and her voice had a ring which caused Madame de
Ruth to start,--'Monseigneur, I can refuse you nothing. To-morrow I will
do as you desire.' The rich blood mantled to her cheeks. Eberhard Ludwig
caught her hand; raising it to his lips he murmured 'To-morrow!'