en describing the scene, "most
unreasonable, and more violent than any one could believe."

After about ten minutes of it her Majesty rose quietly from her chair
and rang the bell.

III

A message came to the King that her Majesty wished to see him.

When he arrived in the Queen's boudoir he found his wife sitting in all
her accustomed composure; and yet somehow the scene suggested
disturbance. Away from her mother at the furthest window stood
Charlotte, a charmingly disheveled figure; flushed and bright-eyed she
was looking out over the Platz and mopping vehemently at her nose with a
handkerchief.

"Don't do that there!" remarked the Queen, "any one might see you."

"Why shouldn't they? They'd only think that I had a cold."

"It isn't the time of the year for colds. Either leave off, or come away
from the window."

"There, you see!" cried Charlotte, stung to fresh exasperation, "I can't
even stand where I like now!"

"What is the matter?" inquired the King.

"Tell your father what you have been saying," said the Queen, finding it
better that the culprit herself should explain.

"I don't know what I've been saying."

"I should think not; it didn't sound like it. Now that you've got both
parents to listen to you, talk to them and tell them your mind."

This threw Charlotte into a fresh paroxysm. "Oh, why did I ever have
parents?" she cried.

"Yes, that appears to be the trouble," said the Queen. "John, this is a
revolting daughter. I've heard of them, and now I've got the thing
brought home to me. Look at her!"

"What are you revolting about, my dear?" inquired the King kindly.

"Everything!" exclaimed Charlotte.

"Quite true," said the Queen, "everything."

"Well, begin at the beginning." And Charlotte screwed herself up to
speak.

"I came to talk to mamma about something," she said, "something that
mattered very much. I suppose you know about it too."

The Queen gave her husband an informing look.

"And what do you think she did?" Charlotte continued. "First she told me
not to be foolish; and after that, to everything I said she went
on--just as if she didn't hear me--knitting, knitting!"

"She says," interrupted the Queen, "that she is not going to marry
anybody, and particularly not the Prince, because she hates him. I say
how can she know when she hasn't seen him."

"I won't marry him!" cried Charlotte, "I've seen his photograph."

"Yes, and you liked it," said her mother. This did n