enkamp pondered and speculated how he could have brought about the
change in the Prince's gracious mood. His inmost soul rebelled against
being so dependent on the whim or the glance of another--he, the man
who had ruled so absolutely over all that came in his way. He tormented
himself till his head burned, to think over the whole course of the
visit, and at last he thought he had found out the trouble; it was only
a hitch at a glove which had shown it, but that was doubtless the sign
of annoyance. He had told the Prince how delighted he should be to
drink new health from the same spring as his gracious highness, and,
when the Prince looked at him inquiringly, he had added that he also
was going to Carlsbad, where he should have the happiness of beholding
his Prince's face every day. Yes, that was it; the Prince had cast a
hasty glance of astonishment upon him, and given his glove a twitch.

Sonnenkamp acknowledged to himself that he had made a decided blunder
in not using more reserve; for nothing of the Prince's journey to the
Baths was yet officially announced, and his mentioning it had been
premature, and showed some private source of information. He was more
vexed at the caution and self-restraint that one was compelled to
observe, than at his own want of tact. Could not the Prince have taken
it pleasantly? Had not a good, and, as he himself thought, a most
graceful turn been given to his allusion?

The thoughts of the self-tormentor went further, and new tokens
appeared. Had not the Prince said to Aunt Claudine:--

"Everything seems so thoroughly pleasant here; here I find nothing
disturbed from its usual course."

The Prince was evidently offended that any secret preparations had been
made for his reception; it probably seemed to him that he was
surrounded by spies.

And now Sonnenkamp's wrath broke out anew, not against himself, but
against the Prince, who ought to remember how long he had lived in a
foreign land; and the Professorin ought to have managed matters better,
for she had been a lady-in-waiting at Court; and Pranken ought to have
managed better, too, for was he not a chamberlain?

Sonnenkamp fumed with rage over the whole business, and now, for the
first time, it struck him how strange it was that these people should
treat all this humbug of rank so seriously; they knew that it was
humbug, but its very existence depended on their vying with each other
to keep up the appearance of entertaining re