f at Madame Gunther's feet.

She controlled herself, however, and, looking at her with a fixed gaze,
passed on.

The parrot in the anteroom spread out its wings, as if it, too, wanted
to go along, and screamed; "God keep you, Irma!"

As if veiled in a cloud, Irma walked through the corridor. At the
palace gate, she met the king coming out of the park with
Schnabelsdorf, who had a number of dispatches in his hand, and whose
cheerful looks were owing to the news of victory which he had just
received.

To Irma, the king and Schnabelsdorf seemed like misty forms. She wore a
double black veil, for she did not care to gratify the idle curiosity
of the court, by making a show of the face on which grief had done its
work.

The king drew near. She could not remove her veil. He seemed far, far
away. She heard his friendly and, of course, kind words, but she knew
not what he said.

The king extended his hand to Gunther, then to Bruno, and, at last, to
Irma. He pressed her hand tenderly, but she did not return the
pressure.

They got into the carriage. Just as they were about to start, Irma,
noticing Madame Gunther's hand on the carriage door, bent down and
kissed it. The next moment they were gone.

They were silent for some time. After they had passed the first
village, Bruno took out a cigar, saying to Irma, who sat opposite him:
"I'm a man, and a man must calmly accept the inevitable. Show that you,
too, have a strong mind."

Irma did not reply. She threw back her veil and looked out of the
window. Her departure had been so hurried that she was just beginning
to recover herself.

"You ought to have taken leave of the queen in person," said Bruno, in
a calm tone. The long silence was irksome to him. Such dark hours
should be made to pass as agreeably as possible. When he found that
Irma still remained silent, he added: "For you know that the queen's
tender nature is so easily offended."

Irma still made no reply, but Gunther said:

"Yes; it were sacrilege to offend the queen. No one but a savage would
dare to weaken her faith in human goodness and veracity."

Gunther expressed himself with unwonted energy, and his words cut Irma
to the heart. Was it she who had committed sacrilege? And then the
thought gradually dawned upon her; the queen is his ideal; the king is
mine. Who knows whether the mask of intellectual affinity may not have
served to screen--Quick as thought, she dropped her veil; her breathing
was s