ng in her eyes persisted. As she stood up, I kissed
her lightly on the forehead. Then we walked away together.

That afternoon I was summoned to Princess Heinrich's room to drink tea
with her and the Duchess. Cousin Elizabeth was still exuberant; it
seemed to me that a cold watchfulness governed my mother's mood.
Relations between my mother and myself have not always been cordial; but
I have never failed to perceive and respect in her a fine inner
sincerity, an aptitude for truth and a resolute facing of facts. While
Cousin Elizabeth talked, the Princess sat smiling with her usual faint
smile; it never showed the least inclination to become a laugh. She
acquiesced politely in the rose-coloured description of Elsa's feelings
and affections. She had perception enough to know that the picture could
not be true. Presently I took the liberty of informing her by a glance
that I was not a partner in the delusion. She showed no surprise; but
the fruit of my act was that she detained me by a gesture, after Cousin
Elizabeth had taken her leave. For a few moments she sat silent; then
she remarked:

"The Duchess is a very kind woman, very anxious to make everybody
happy."

"Yes," said I carelessly.

"But it must be in her own way. She is romantic. She thinks everybody
else must be the same. You and I know, Augustin, that things of that
kind occupy a very small part of a man's life. My sex deludes itself.
And when a man occupies the position you do, it's absurd to suppose that
he pays much attention to them."

"No doubt Cousin Elizabeth exaggerates," said I, standing in a
respectful attitude before my mother.

"Well, I daresay you remember the time when Victoria was a girl. You
recollect her folly? But you and I were firm--you behaved very well
then, Augustin--and the result is that she is most suitably and most
happily married."

I bowed. I did not think that any agreement of mine could be worthy of
the magnificent boldness of Princess Heinrich's statement.

"Girls are silly; they pass through a silly time," she pursued, smiling.

A sudden remembrance shot across me.

"It doesn't do to take any notice of such things," said I gravely.

Happily, perhaps, Princess Heinrich was not awake to the fact that she
herself was being quoted to herself.

"I'm glad to hear you say so," she said. "You have your work to do.
Don't waste your time in thinking of girls' megrims--or of their
mothers' nonsense."

I left her presence wi