M

Tea at the Palace, until the old King had taken to his bed, had been the
one cheerful hour of the day. The entire suite gathered in one of the
salons, and remained standing until the King's entrance. After that,
formality ceased. Groups formed, footmen in plush with white wigs passed
trays of cakes and sandwiches and tiny gilt cups of exquisite tea.
The Court, so to speak, removed its white gloves, and was noisy and
informal. True, at dinner again ceremony and etiquette would reign.
The march into the dining-hall between rows of bowing servants, the set
conversation, led by the King, the long and tedious courses, the careful
watch for precedence that was dinner at the Palace.

But now all that was changed. The King did not leave his apartment.
Annunciata occasionally took tea with the suite, but glad for an excuse,
left the Court to dine without her. Sometimes for a half-hour she
lent her royal if somewhat indifferently attired presence to the salon
afterward, where for thirty minutes or so she moved from group to group,
exchanging a few more or less gracious words. But such times were rare.
The Archduchess, according to Court gossip, had "slumped."

To Hedwig the change had been a relief. The entourage, with its gossip,
its small talk, its liaisons, excited in her only indifference and
occasional loathing. Not that her short life had been without its
affairs. She was too lovely for that. But they had touched her only
faintly.

On the day of the Chancellor's visit to her mother she went to tea in
the schoolroom. She came in glowing from a walk, with the jacket of her
dark velvet suit thrown open, and a bunch of lilies-of-the-valley tucked
in her belt.

Tea had already come, and Captain Larisch, holding his cup, was standing
by the table. The Crown Prince, who was allowed only one cup, was having
a second of hot water and milk, equal parts, and sweetened.

Hedwig slipped out of her jacket and drew off her gloves. She had hardly
glanced at Nikky, although she knew quite well every motion he had made
since she entered. "I am famished!" she said, and proceeded to eat very
little and barely touch the tea. "Please don't go, Miss Braithwaite. And
now, how is everything?"

Followed a long half-hour, in which the Crown Prince talked mostly of
the Land of Desire and the American boy. Miss Braithwaite, much indulged
by long years of service, crocheted, and Nikky Larisch, from the
embrasure of a window, watched the lit