expression, and although she had hung about close to him, only to place herself into some sort of relation to him, yet he had kept himself throughout too stiff, so that too often she had been driven to take refuge with her urn; she had to press it to her heart and look up to heaven, and at last, a situation of that kind having a necessary tendency to intensify, she made herself more like a widow of Ephesus than a Queen of Caria.  The representation had to lengthen itself out and became tedious.  The pianoforte player, who had usually patience enough, did not know into what tune he could escape.  He thanked God when he saw the urn standing on the pyramid, and fell involuntarily as the queen was going to express her gratitude, into a merry air; by which the whole thing lost its character, the company, however, being thoroughly cheered up by it, who forthwith divided, some going up to express their delight and admiration of the lady for her excellent performance, and some praising the Architect for his most artistlike and beautiful drawing.

[Illustration:  LUCIANA POSING AS QUEEN ARTEMISIA P. Grotjohann]

The bridegroom especially paid marked attention to the Architect.  “I am vexed,” he said, “that the drawing should be so perishable; you will permit me, however, to have it taken to my room, where I should much like to talk to you about it.”

“If it would give you any pleasure,” said the Architect, “I can lay before you a number of highly finished designs for buildings and monuments of this kind, of which this is but a mere hasty sketch.”

Ottilie was standing at no great distance, and went up to them.  “Do not forget,” she said to the Architect, “to take an opportunity of letting the Baron see your collection.  He is a friend of art and of antiquity.  I should like you to become better acquainted.”

Luciana was passing at the moment.  “What are they speaking of?” she asked.

“Of a collection of works of art,” replied the Baron, “which this gentleman possesses, and which he is good enough to say that he will show us.”

“Oh, let him bring them immediately,” cried Luciana.  “You will bring them, will you not?” she added, in a soft and sweet tone, taking both his hands in hers.

“The present is scarcely a fitting time,” the Architect answered.

“What!” Luciana cried, in a tone of authority; “you will not obey the command of your queen!” and then she begged him again with some piece of absurdity.

“Do not be obstinate,” said Ottilie, in a scarcely audible voice.

The Architect left them with a bow, which said neither yes nor no.

He was hardly gone, when Luciana was flying up and down the saloon with a greyhound.  “Alas!” she exclaimed, as she ran accidentally against her mother, “am I not an unfortunate creature?  I have not brought my monkey with me.  They told me I had better not; but I am sure it was nothing but the laziness of my people, and it is such a delight to me.  But I will have it brought after me; somebody shall go and fetch it.  If I could only see a picture of the dear creature, it would be a comfort to me; I certainly will have his picture taken, and it shall never be out of my sight.”