riends--and
these, of course, included every lady and gentleman at court--that his
real vocation was art; that he had only sacrificed it for the sake of
the king, whom he loved above all beings; and maintained that this was
a duty that the nobles owed their sovereign. A landscape of his,
showing a view of the lake, on the borders of which lay Walpurga's
birthplace, was hanging in the summer palace. It was a clever picture,
but malicious tongues asserted that one of his friends, at the academy,
had painted the landscape, and that another had done the figures.

On their mountain excursions, Schoning paid marked attention to Irma,
who could freely indulge her wanton humor with him, for it was well
understood, at court, that no one could have a love affair with
Schoning. He was the butt of every one, and knew how to take, as well
as give a joke.

Schoning would, many a time, have liked to avoid taking part in these
excursions, for he well knew that his attempts to acquire dignity were
far from being successful. But even pretended illness did not serve as
an excuse; for, without Schoning, there was no target for their jests.

What was he to do? He put the best face possible on the matter and,
with feigned willingness, accompanied them.

Notwithstanding the wide difference in their stations, Schoning and
Baum were both indispensable.

Baum was the favorite servant at court. He was fortunate enough to be
useful in every way, and no country party, no dinner in the woods, no
excursion on the water, was considered complete without him. Actors are
often vexed when they are not sufficiently employed, or are cast for
unimportant parts, and lackeys, in the same way, have a jealous desire
to be kept ever busy. It follows, as a matter of course, that Baum had
his favorites, whom he would, when occasion offered, mention
approvingly to the lord steward, and they obeyed him as if he were
their natural superior. The queen's shawl, or the king's paletot, were
never so well carried as by Baum. While hanging on his arm, they would
almost seem to say: "Oh, how warm and soft we are, and we are ready, at
any time, to protect and warm you. Your Majesties have only to command
us."

The evenings were pleasantly spent. After tea, they would usually
repair to the inner palace yard and, by the light of torches, look at
the wild beasts that had been shot during the day's hunt. The queen,
although loth to behold such sights, would always join th