he happy years that stretched in such a golden vista before them. It
was a love-idyll such as delighted the romantic heart of Paris; and
congratulations and presents poured on the young couple; "the very
beggars in the streets," we are told, "blessing them as they drove by."

"Happy is the wooing that is not long a-doing," and Milan's wooing was
as brief as it was blissful. He was all impatience to possess fully the
prize he had won; preparations for the nuptials were hastened, but,
before the crowning day dawned, once more the voice of warning spoke.

A few days before the wedding, as Milan was leaving the Murussi Palace,
he was accosted by a woman, who craved permission to speak to him, a
favour which was smilingly accorded. "I know you," said the woman, thus
permitted to speak, "although you do not know me. You are the Prince of
Servia; I am a servant in the household of the Princess Murussi. Your
Highness, listen! I love Natalie. I have known and loved her since she
was a child; and I beg of you not to marry her. Such a union is doomed
to unhappiness. You love to rule, to command. So does Natalie; and it is
_she_ who will be the ruler. You are utterly unsuited for each other,
and nothing but great unhappiness can possibly come from your union."

To this warning Milan turned a smiling face and a deaf ear, as Natalie
had done to the voice of the gipsy. A fig for such gloomy prophecy! They
were ideally happy in the present, and the future should be equally
bright, however ravens might croak. Thus, one October day in 1875,
Vienna held high holiday for the nuptials of the handsome Prince and his
beautiful bride; and it was through avenues densely packed with cheering
onlookers that Natalie made her triumphal progress to the altar, in her
flower-garlanded dress of white satin, a tiara of diamonds flashing from
the blackness of her hair, no brighter than the brilliance of her eyes,
her face irradiated with happiness.

That no Royalty graced their wedding was a matter of no moment to Milan
and Natalie, whose happiness was thus crowned; and when at the
subsequent banquet Milan said, "I wish from my very heart that every one
of my subjects, as well as everybody I know, could be always as happy as
I am this moment," none who heard him could doubt the sincerity of his
words, or see any but a golden future for so ideal a union of hearts.

By Servia her young Princess was received with open arms of welcome.
"Her reception," we