were falling, the king and queen, arm in arm, might
often have been seen sauntering in the park, and at such times the
ladies and gentlemen would remain near the palace.

One evening, while the king and queen were thus walking together,
engaged in familiar conversation, the queen said:

"How delightful it is to be thus leaning on your arm; to close one's
eyes and be led by you. You can't imagine what good it does me."

Although the king expressed himself delighted with her devotion, an
inner voice told him that such sensibility was unqueenly. How
differently--

No, he would not permit himself to think of it.

The queen had much to tell him of the gradual dawning of sense in the
prince. He listened attentively, but rather through politeness than
sympathy. After the first week, the queen excused herself from taking
part in the frequent excursions, for she found no pleasure in all the
bustle.

The queen had Walpurga and the child with her, either in the park or on
the rising ground behind the palace, where she would sketch groups of
trees, the lake and the swans, the castle, the chapel, and various
distant views.

One morning, while at breakfast, the king said:

"What charming rivalry it was when you and Countess Irma were drawing
together. Your dispositions were both illustrated by the way in which
you treated the same subjects."

"Yes, we often remarked that. Perhaps I worked in the details more
correctly and sharply, while Countess Irma sketched with far greater
ease and freedom. I greatly miss the dear countess."

"Then let us write to her and tell her that she must return, and that
at once. Let us send her a joint letter. Ladies and gentleman, we shall
now, all of us, write a letter to Countess Irma."

"Order the writing materials to be brought," said he to one of the
gentlemen in waiting. His request was speedily complied with and he
wrote:

"Beautiful Countess! Fugitive bird! At last I know what bird you
are:--The wild dove. Does this contradiction describe you? Wild, and
yet a dove? Come, do come to us; your forest companions hang their
heads because of your absence. Hasten to us, on wings of song."

The king offered the sheet to the queen and said: "What will you
write?"

"I can't write when any one is present," replied the queen. "I can't
write a word now; I shall send her a separate letter."

An almost imperceptible expression of displeasure passed over the
king's countenance, but he sub