at well in Gruenewald. If
we saw more of his Highness we should be the better pleased."

"It is the kindest Prince," began the groom, and suddenly closed his
mouth upon a sob, so that every one turned to gaze upon his
emotion--Otto not last; Otto struck with remorse, to see the man so
grateful.

Then it was the lawyer's turn to pay a compliment. "I do not know what
Providence may hold in store," he said, "but this day should be a bright
one in the annals of your reign. The shouts of armies could not be more
eloquent than the emotion on these honest faces." And the Brandenau
lawyer bowed, skipped, stepped back and took snuff, with the air of a
man who has found and seized an opportunity.

"Well, young gentleman," said Killian, "if you will pardon me the
plainness of calling you a gentleman, many a good day's work you have
done, I doubt not, but never a better, or one that will be better
blessed; and whatever, sir, may be your happiness and triumph in that
high sphere to which you have been called, it will be none the worse,
sir, for an old man's blessing!"

The scene had almost assumed the proportions of an ovation; and when the
Prince escaped he had but one thought: to go wherever he was most sure
of praise. His conduct at the board of council occurred to him as a fair
chapter; and this evoked the memory of Gotthold. To Gotthold he would
go.

Gotthold was in the library as usual, and laid down his pen, a little
angrily, on Otto's entrance. "Well," he said, "here you are."

"Well," returned Otto, "we made a revolution, I believe."

"It is what I fear," returned the Doctor.

"How?" said Otto. "Fear? Fear is the burnt child. I have learned my
strength and the weakness of the others; and I now mean to govern."

Gotthold said nothing, but he looked down and smoothed his chin.

"You disapprove?" cried Otto. "You are a weather-cock."

"On the contrary," replied the Doctor. "My observation has confirmed my
fears. It will not do, Otto, not do."

"What will not do?" demanded the Prince, with a sickening stab of pain.

"None of it," answered Gotthold. "You are unfitted for a life of action;
you lack the stamina, the habit, the restraint, the patience. Your wife
is greatly better, vastly better; and though she is in bad hands,
displays a very different aptitude. She is a woman of affairs; you
are--dear boy, you are yourself. I bid you back to your amusements; like
a smiling dominie, I give you holidays for life. Yes,