e would be
strong.

She kept Irma about her much of the time, and the hours they spent in
the green, flowering, winter-garden, reading, working, conversing or
singing, were serene and blissful.

Irma, who was an excellent reader, read Goethe's Tasso to them. It
accorded with their present mood, and one day, Irma said:

"Your Majesty resembles Princess Leonora in many things. You have the
advantage, however, of being able to accomplish in a few weeks what, in
her case, it required years to bring about."

"I don't understand you."

"What I mean is, that long confinement to the sickroom and careful
nursing are apt to produce, in the invalid, a certain sensitiveness and
an almost imperceptible change in manner. It is well to escape from
this hothouse mood into the open air; to be once again among the
trees which are proof against all weathers, and to inhale the fresh,
life-giving breeze."

The king was often present during these readings, and frequently felt
moved to express his thoughts on the weightiest and most beautiful
passages in Tasso. Irma often trembled. Every word she uttered seemed
wicked. She felt that she no longer had a right to speak of pure and
holy subjects, but the king was so cheerful and unconstrained that she
speedily dismissed all concern.

"You are spoiling me, and will make me quite vain," said the queen, one
day. "I have another wish. I long to go from flowers to works of art. I
often feel like visiting the picture-gallery and the collection of
antiques. When we move among the achievements of art the deepest
impression we receive is, that human beings who lived long ago, have
bequeathed their best possessions to us, and that eyes long since
closed in death, look down upon us with their undying glances, and are
still with us."

At the words "undying glances," the king and Irma looked at each other
with involuntary surprise. To them, the words were suggestive. Irma
composed herself and replied:

"I cannot help joining in Your Majesty's wish: from flowers and trees
to works of art! Surrounded by pictures and statues, the soul dwells in
an ideal atmosphere; life everlasting environs us; we inhale the very
breath of genius which, although its possessors may have vanished from
earth, endures for ever. When I was forced to the conclusion that I was
without real artistic talent, I envied the monarchs to whom is
vouchsafed the happiness of encouraging talent and genius in others.
That is a great