won't we, Augustin?"

"Yes, please, mother," said I, relapsed into shyness and in great fear
lest our doings should be discovered.

"Say good-bye now," commanded the Princess.

I should have liked to kiss the Countess again, but such an act would
have risked a betrayal. Our adieu was made in proper form, the Countess
accompanying us to the door. There we left her curtseying, while the
Count handed my mother into the carriage. I looked round, and the
Countess blew me a surreptitious kiss.

When we had driven a little way, my mother said:

"Do you like the Countess von Sempach?"

"Yes, very much."

"She was kind to you?"

"Very, mother."

"Then why have you been crying, Augustin?"

"I haven't been crying," said I. The lie was needful to my compact with
the Countess; my honour was rooted in dishonour.

"Yes, you have," said she, but not quite in the accusing tones that
generally marked the detection of falsehood. She seemed to look at me
more in curiosity than in anger. Then she bent down toward me. "What did
you talk about?" she asked.

"Nothing very particular, mother. She asked me if I liked being king."

"And what did you say?"

"I said I liked it pretty well."

My mother made no answer. I stole a look at her handsome clean-cut
features; she was frowning a little.

"I didn't tell her much," said I, aiming at propitiation.

"Much of what?" came sharply, but not unkindly. Yet the question posed
me.

"Oh, I don't know!" I murmured forlornly; and I was surprised when she
turned and kissed me, saying:

"We all love you, Augustin; but you have to be king, and you must learn
how."

"Yes," I assented. The thing was quite inevitable; I knew that.

Silence followed for a little while. Then my mother said:

"When you're ten you shall have a tutor, and your own servants,
Augustin."

Hastily I counted the months. There were nine; but what did the
proposal mean? Was I to be a free man then?

"And we women will leave you alone," my mother went on. She kissed me
again, adding, "You don't like us, do you?"

"I like you, mother," I said gravely, "at least generally--not when you
let Kr--the Baroness----"

"Never mind the Baroness," she interrupted. Then she put her arm round
my neck and asked me in a very low voice, "You didn't like the Countess
better than me, did you, Augustin?"

"N--no, mother," said I, but I was an unaccomplished hypocrite, and my
mother turned away. My thoughts were not on her,