inister that I had been so unfortunate as to try his temper: "Your new
secretary irritates me, sir--he is a person in an offensively perfect
state of health." The Prince's charming daughter was not of her father's
way of thinking; it is impossible to say how graciously, how sweetly I
was received. She honored me by speaking to me in my own language,
of which she showed herself to be a perfect mistress. I was not only
permitted, but encouraged, to talk of my family, and to dwell on my own
tastes, amusements, and pursuits. Even when her Highness's attention was
claimed by other persons waiting to be presented, I was not forgotten.
The Baroness was instructed to invite me for the next evening to the
Princess's tea-table; and it was hinted that I should be especially
welcome if I brought my music with me, and sang.

My friend the secretary, standing near us at the time, looked at me with
a mysterious smile. He had suggested that I should make advances to the
Baroness--and here was the Baroness (under royal instructions) making
advances to Me!

"We know what _that_ means," he whispered.

In justice to myself, I must declare that I entirely failed to
understand him.

On the occasion of my second reception by the Princess, at her little
evening party, I detected the Baroness, more than once, in the act of
watching her Highness and myself, with an appearance of disapproval in
her manner, which puzzled me. When I had taken my leave, she followed me
out of the room.

"I have a word of advice to give you," she said. "The best thing you can
do, sir, is to make an excuse to your Minister, and go back to England."

I declare again, that I entirely failed to understand the Baroness.

IV.

BEFORE the season came to an end, the Court removed to the Prince's
country-seat, in the interests of his Highness's health. Entertainments
were given (at the Doctor's suggestion), with a view of raising the
patient's depressed spirits. The members of the English legation were
among the guests invited. To me it was a delightful visit. I had again
every reason to feel gratefully sensible of the Princess's condescending
kindness. Meeting the secretary one day in the library, I said that I
thought her a perfect creature. Was this an absurd remark to make? I
could see nothing absurd in it--and yet my friend burst out laughing.

"My good fellow, nobody is a perfect creature," he said. "The Princess
has her faults and failings, like the rest of u