t to marry suitably."

"We need a marrying man to chase away the crowd of lovers," said the
king, smiling. "Think awhile--let your lovers pass in review before
you--perhaps you may find among them one who is both ardent and
desirable."

Louise remained thoughtful for a few moments. The king observed her
closely.

"Well," he said, after a pause, "have you made your selection?"

Madame von Kleist sighed, and her beautiful bright eyes filled with
tears. She took leave of her most cherished and ambitious dream--bade
farewell to her future of regal pomp and splendor.

"Yes, sire, I have found an e'poitseur, who only needs encouragement, to
offer me his heart and hand."

"Is he of good family?"

"Yes, sire."

"Military?"

"Yes, sire. He wears only a captain's epaulets. Your majesty sees that I
am modest."

"On the day of his marriage he shall be major. When the Church
pronounces her blessing, the king's blessing shall not be wanting. We
are, of course, agreed. When will you be engaged?"

"Sire, that depends upon my lover, and when I succeed in bringing him to
terms."

"We will say in eight days. You see I am anxious to become speedily
acquainted with one blissful mortal, and I think that the husband of the
beautiful Madame Kleist will be supremely happy. In eight days, then,
you will be engaged, and, to complete your good work, you must announce
this happy fact to my brother Henry. Of course, he must not even surmise
that you sacrifice yourself in order to set him a good example. No, you
will complete your noble work, and tell him that a love which you could
not control induced you to take this step; and that he may not doubt
your words, you will tell your story cheerfully--yes, joyously."

"Sire, it is too much--I cannot do it," cried Madame von Kleist. "It is
enough to trample upon my own heart; your majesty cannot desire me to
give the prince his death-blow."

The king's eyes flashed angrily, but he controlled himself.

"His death!" he repeated, shrugging his shoulders, "as if men died of
such small wounds. You know better yourself. You know that the grave
of one love is the cradle of another. Be wise, and do as I tell you: in
eight days you will be engaged, and then you will have the kindness to
acquaint Prince Henry with your happy prospects."

"Ah, sire, do not be so cruel as to ask this of me," cried Louise,
gliding from the divan upon her knees, "be merciful. I am ready to obey
the commands of my