nkenstein now gave the doctor seemed to say:
"I never gave the queen credit for so much tact and self-command. How
naturally she acts, while trying to make us believe that she never knew
or suspected that aught was wrong."

"I will go to her!" suddenly exclaimed the queen. "No one shall prevent
it. I will go to her and stand by her coffin, by her grave."

Countess Brinkenstein stared at the queen.

The doctor approached and said:

"Your Majesty cannot see the countess. Grief for her father's death
affected her mind--"

"Then she's not dead?"

"The countess has undoubtedly drowned herself in the lake."

The queen cast a look of horror at the doctor. She attempted to speak,
but could not. Gunther added:

"She has not left us without a farewell; she left a letter, which I am
to deliver to Your Majesty. It must surely be intended to atone for the
frightful tidings; even in her last moments, she was true to her
affectionate nature."

The queen stared at Gunther vacantly. She tried to rise, but could not.
She mutely motioned him to give her the letter. Gunther handed it to
her.

The queen read it and turned pale as a corpse. Her features grew rigid;
her hands fell to her side, as if palsied; her eyes closed, an
expression as of death lay on her lips. Presently, she shook as if in a
chill, and then her face became flushed, as if burning. She sprang to
her feet and exclaimed:

"No! no! Have you done this? Could you act thus, Irma? You--"

She fell back in her chair, covered her face with both hands, and
exclaimed:

"And she kissed my child, and he kissed it! Oh, they kissed that which
was purest of all, well knowing how impure their own lips were. They
talked in the loftiest strain, and yet the words did not cut their
tongues like sharp knives! Oh, how disgusting! How disgusting, how
tainted everything seems! How I loathe myself! And he dared to tell me
that a prince could have no private actions, for his deeds are an
example to others. Shame! shame! Everything is vile, everything is
despicable! Everything!"

She looked around, bewildered. She was as terrible in her indignation
as she had been beautiful in her grief.

With vacant gaze she regarded every object that had once met Irma's
eye, and when her glance again fell upon the flower-table, she turned
away with a convulsive start, as if serpents had darted from the
flowers. Again she exclaimed:

"Oh, how loathsome! Oh, how vile, how disgusting! I beg of