cutting irony for the derisive glances which plainly spoke what the
lips dared not utter. She no sooner entered the saloon than she began to
greet her acquaintances; every word contained a poisonous sting, which
inflicted a grievous wound. When she read in the faces of her victims
that her sharp arrows had entered the quivering flesh, a malicious fire
sparkled in her eyes, and a bitter smile played upon her lips.

Behind the queen and Princess Amelia appeared the Princess Henry. She
was also superbly dressed, but those who looked upon her thought not of
her toilet; they were refreshed, enraptured by her adorable beauty--by
the goodness and purity written on her rosy cheek. To-day, however, the
eyes of the princesses were less clear and dazzling than usual--a gleam
of sadness shadowed her fair brow, and her coral lips trembled lightly
as if in pain. Perhaps it was the remembrance of the beautiful and happy
days, past and gone like a dream, which made the lonely present seem so
bitter. Absentminded and thoughtful, she stepped forward without looking
to the right or left, regardless of the flashing orders and stars, of
the handsome officers and courtly circle bowing profoundly before her as
she passed on.

The court had now passed; the bowed heads were raised, and now the young
French officers cast impertinent, almost challenging glances, at the
ladies of the queen and the princesses, who drew near and bestowed here
and there stolen smiles and light greetings upon their admirers.

Fraulein Marshal did not seem to be aware that the insolent eyes of
these haughty Frenchmen were fixed upon her. Proudly erect she advanced;
her large blue eyes were turned toward the princess; she gave neither
glance nor smile to any one; her noble and beautiful countenance had a
stern, resolved expression--her lips were pouting, and her usually soft
eyes told tales of an angry soul. There was something Juno-like in her
appearance--she was lovely to behold, but cold and stern in her beauty.

As she passed by Count Belleville, he exclaimed with a sigh to his
neighbor: "Ah, look at this majestic Galatea, this beautiful marble
statue, which can only be awaked to life by kisses."

Fraulein Marshal trembled slightly; a crimson blush suffused her face,
her shoulders, and even her back; but she did not hesitate or turn.
She moved on slowly, though she heard the officers laughing and
whispering--though she felt that their presumptuous eyes were fixe