"It's the Emperor's way as well as von Breitstein's."

"Then for once in his big, grand, obstinate life he'll have to learn
that there's one insignificant girl who won't play Griselda, even for
the sake of being his Empress."

The girl proclaimed this resolve, rising to her feet, with her head
high, and a look in her gray eyes which told the Grand Duchess that it
would be hopeless for her to argue down the resolution. At first it
was a proud look, and a sad look; but suddenly a beam of light
flashed into it, and began to sparkle and twinkle. Virginia smiled,
and showed her dimples. Her color came and went. In a moment she was a
different girl, and her mother, bewildered, fearful still, dared to
hope something from the change.

"How odd you look!" she exclaimed. "You've thought of something. You
are happy. You have the air of--of having found some plan."

"It found me, I think," the girl answered, laughing. "All
suddenly--just in a flash. That's the way it must be with
inspirations. This is one--I know it. It's all in the air--floating
round me. But I shall grasp it soon."

She came close to her mother, still smiling, and knelt down in the
grass at her feet, looking up with radiance in her eyes.

Luckily there was no one save the Dresden china lady and the birds and
flowers to see how a young Princess threw her mantle of dignity away;
for the two did not keep Royal state and a Royal retinue in the quaint
old house at Hampton Court; and the big elm which Virginia loved,
kindly hid the mother and daughter from intrusive eyes.

"You do love me, don't you, dearest?" cooed the Princess, softly as a
dove.

"You know I do, my child, though I don't pretend to understand you,"
sighed the Grand Duchess, well aware that she was about to be coaxed
into some scheme, feeling that she would yield, and praying Providence
that the yielding might not lead her into tribulation.

"People grow dull if we understand them too well," said Virginia.
"It's like solving a puzzle. There's no more fun in it, when it's
finished. But you wish me to be happy, darling?"

"More than I wish for anything else, excepting of course dear Dal's--"

"Dal is a man and can take care of himself. _I_ must do the best I
can--poor me! And there's something I want so much, so much, it would
be heaven on earth, all my own, if I could win it. Leopold's love,
quite for myself, as a girl, not as a 'suitable Protestant Princess.'
For a few horrid minutes, I