," thought he; "I can't always be dragging the
past about with me."

He was informed that the queen had not left her apartments since the
receipt of the dreadful news. He sent for Gunther, who informed him of
the queen's condition, and recommended that she be treated with great
indulgence.

The king fancied that the doctor's manner was more reserved than usual.
He would have liked to ask him as to the queen's thoughts, how she had
received the sad news, and whether she had conquered her grief; but it
was Gunther's duty to tell him all this, without waiting to be
questioned. At last, the king asked him:

"Is the queen's mind composed?"

"It is noble and beautiful as ever," replied Gunther.

"Has she been reading of late? Did she send for the court chaplain?"

"Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty."

The king, who, at other times, found the observance of etiquette so
convenient, now found it irksome.

He would have liked the doctor to speak of his own accord, and explain
much that was yet unclear, instead of simply answering the questions
put to him.

"You have had a great trial; in Count Eberhard, you lost an old
friend."

"He lives in my memory, just as he did before he died," replied
Gunther.

The king's heart was filled with anger. He had been very friendly in
his advances toward this man, had even inquired after an event in his
private life, and yet Gunther, while preserving perfect decorum,
remained as reserved and as repelling as ever.

His old aversion toward this man, who, in the midst of the excitement
at court, always remained unmoved, was again aroused. He dismissed
Gunther, with a gracious wave of his hand; but when he had gone, his
eye followed him with a sinister expression.

A thought occurred to him which made his cheeks glow, and determined
him upon another line of action. It was now clear to him that the real
cause of his misstep lay in the fact that a third person had stood
between him and his wife. This should no longer be the case, no matter
how well it was meant. Instead of asking Gunther for information as to
his wife's thoughts and feelings, she should tell him all, in person
and alone. He felt a deep affection for her, and thought that, since he
had conquered so much within himself, he was again worthy of her.

The king sent for Countess Brinkenstein. Since the sad occurrence, the
king had only moved among men, by whom affairs of this nature are
treated more lightly and, in fact,