two peas in a pod, that will give your friend nothing you claim for
her. The fate of your Princess rests in the hands of Herr Wentworth.
Have the two met?"

"No; but during the short time they have been in the city they have
been mistaken for each other. And why do you call her my Princess?"

"She is not ours yet. It was a strange story, as I remember it. In
those days we had our doubts, as we still have, of another child. By
the way, who suggested the matter to you?"

I recounted my interview with the Prince.

"Ah," said the Chancellor; "so it was he? He is a greedy fellow and
careful. I can readily understand his object. He wants all or
nothing. I shall help you all I can," he concluded, as I reached for
my hat.

"I ask nothing more," I replied; and then I passed from the cabinet
into the crowded anteroom. It was filled with diplomats and soldiers,
each waiting for an audience. They eyed me curiously and perhaps
enviously as I made my way to the street. "Yes, indeed, what will the
King say?" I mused on the way back to my rooms. What could he say?

That night Pembroke and I arrived at the ministry a little after ten.
I was in a state of extreme nervousness.

"I'm in a regular funk," said Pembroke. "Supposing your Princess does
not come?"

"It is written that she will come."

"Well, I'm glad that I looked you up in London. I would not have
missed this adventure."

We found Phyllis in a nook under the grand staircase. I gave a slight
exclamation as I saw her. I had never seen her looking so beautiful.

"Come and sit down," said she, making room for us. "I have had a
curious adventure."

"Tell us all about it," said Pembroke.

"I have had the honor of being mistaken for a Princess," triumphantly.

"Who could doubt it!" said I, with a glance I could not help, which
made her lower her eyes.

"Moreover," she continued, this time looking at Pembroke, "the
gentleman who committed the error was the Austrian Ambassador. What a
compliment to take home!"

"And who was the Princess?" I felt compelled to ask, though I knew
perfectly well.

"The Princess Hildegarde. Do you recall the night in London," to me,
"when the same thing occurred? I am very anxious to meet this Princess
who looks so like me."

"You will have that pleasure immediately after the opera," said I.

Pembroke's eyes said something to me then, and I rose.

"There is Mr. Wentworth. I wish to speak to him. Will you excu