regained a bright expression. The
child had not seen its mother weeping and wrestling with her sorrow,
and now she was with him again. "He, too, will come here," said an
inner voice that she was almost loth to listen to. She trembled when
she learned that the king had had the prince brought to his apartments
that very day.
She waited for a long while. She would kiss the boy's little hand again
and again, and would look around to see if the father were not coming.
He came not.
The king was sitting in his cabinet, his hands pressed against his
burning brow. He had passed the turning-point in his career, and he
could no longer permit himself to be oppressed by private, personal
griefs. He had repented, and that was sufficient. He was determined to
effect a change in himself, and that was more than enough. Of what use
were further accusations and penalties? A deep feeling of resentment
against his wife arose within him. She was weak and revengeful. No, not
weak; she was endowed with a power of which he had never had the
faintest presentiment, and he felt deeply conscious of the grievous
fault he had committed in deceiving such a wife. He was, however,
unable to free himself from the thought that his punishment was an
affront to his exalted position. And while his own life-fabric lay in
ruins, why should he, with wondrous self-denial, set about righting the
lives of others? The heart that is reconciled and at peace with itself,
is the only one that can exert a reconciling and peaceful influence on
others. A spirit of defiance and discontent moved him to abandon the
reforms he had begun, for she who was nearest and dearest to him, his
own wife, would not justly acknowledge them.
He sat there for a long while, dull and depressed. At length he arose,
his face expressive of defiance and firmness. He had determined to
accomplish the good, whether his efforts were appreciated or misjudged.
His strength for good had conquered. Unaided, and for the sake of his
own honor, he had determined to carry out the measures that he
considered right, and the happiness that this would cause him must
compensate for the lost pleasures of love.
There were great festivities at court that evening.
The betrothal of Princess Angelica to Prince Arnold was officially
celebrated. The queen appeared, leaning on her husband's arm, and had a
kind and gentle greeting for every one. She looked weak, but none the
less beautiful.
No one was abl
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