nce.
. . . She left me more than twenty years ago. I have never seen her
since, and I trust that she is dead. She was her late Highness's
hair-dresser."

"And the Princess Hildegarde?"

"She is a woman for whom I would gladly lay down my life."

"Yes, yes!" I said impatiently. "Who made her the woman she is? Who
taught her to shoot and fence?"

"It was I."

"You?"

"Yes. From childhood she has been under my care. Her mother did so
desire. She is all I have in the world to love. And she loves me,
Herr; for in all her trials I have been her only friend. But why do
you ask these questions?" a sudden suspicion lighting his eyes.

"I love her."

He took me by the shoulders and squared me in front of him.

"How do you love her?" a glint of anger mingling with the suspicion.

"I love her as a man who wishes to make her his wife."

His hands trailed down my sleeves till they met and joined mine.

"I will tell you all there is to be told. Herr, there was once a happy
family in the palace of the Hohenphalians. The Prince was rather wild,
but he loved his wife. One day his cousin came to visit him. He was a
fascinating man in those days, and few women were there who would not
give an ear to his flatteries. He was often with the Princess, but she
hated him. One day an abominable thing happened. This cousin loved
the Princess. She scorned him. As the Prince was entering the boudoir
this cousin, making out that he was unconscious of the husband's
approach, took the Princess in his arms and kissed her. The Prince was
too far away to see the horror in his wife's face. He believed her to
be acquiescent. That night he accused her. Her denials were in vain.
He confronted her with his cousin, who swore before the immortal God
himself that the Princess had lain willing in his arms. From that time
on the Prince changed. He became reckless; he fell in with evil
company; he grew to be a shameless ruffian, a man who brought his women
into his wife's presence, and struck her while they were there. And in
his passions he called her terrible names. He made a vow that when
children came he would make them things of scorn. In her great
trouble, the Princess came to my inn, where the Princess Hildegarde was
born. The Prince refused to believe that the child was his. My
mistress finally sickened and died--broken-hearted. The Prince died in
a gambling den. The King became the guardian of the lonely child.