r firmly.

Lars Peter tried hard to follow their conversation. They were funny
fellows to listen to, although the case itself was serious enough.
He began to feel drowsy with the heat of the room--after his long
day in the fresh air.

"Well, my good man, you wish to see the King?" said the Bandmaster,
taking hold of the lapel of his coat. Lars Peter pulled himself
together.

"I'd like to try that way, yes," he answered with strained
attention.

"Very well, then listen. I'll introduce you to my niece, who plays
with the princess. This is how it stands, you see--but it's
between ourselves--the _princess_ rather runs off the lines at
times, she gets so sick of things, but it's incognito, you
understand--unknowingly, we say--and then my niece is always by
her side. You'll meet her--and the rest you must do yourself."

"H'm, I'm not exactly dressed for such fine society," said Lars
Peter, looking down at himself. "And I'm out of practice with the
womenfolk--if it had been in my young days, now----!"

"Don't worry about that," said his friend, "people of high degree
often have the most extraordinary taste. It would be damned strange
if the _princess_ doesn't fall in love with you. And if she once
takes a fancy to you, you may bet your last dollar that your case is
in good hands."

The inn-keeper diligently refilled their glasses, and Lars Peter
looked more and more brightly at things. He was overcome by the
Bandmaster's grand connections, and his ability in finding ways and
means--exceedingly clever people he had struck upon. And when Miss
Alma came, full-figured and with a curled fringe, his whole face
beamed. "What a lovely girl," said he warmly, "just the kind I'd
have liked in the old days."

Miss Alma at once wanted to sit on his knee, but Lars Peter kept her
at arms' length. "I've got a wife," said he seriously. Soerine
should have no grounds for complaint. A look from the Bandmaster
made Alma draw herself up.

"Just wait until the _princess_ comes, then you'll see a lady," said
he to Lars Peter.

"She's not coming. She's at a ball tonight," said Miss Alma with
resentment.

"Then we'll go to the palace and find her." The Bandmaster took his
hat, and they all got up.

Outside in the street, a half-grown girl ran up and whispered
something to him.

"Sorry, but I must go," said he to Lars Peter--"my mother-in-law is
at death's door. But you'll have a good time all right."

"Come along," cried Miss Alm