He was presented to the Princess late in the evening, together with Baggs of the British office.  His pride and confidence received a severe shock.  She glanced at him with unaffected welcome, but the air of one who was looking upon his face for the first time.  It was not until he had spent a full hour in doleful self-commiseration, that his sense of worldliness came to his relief.  In a flash, he was joyously convincing himself that her pose during the presentation was artfully—­and very properly—­assumed.  He saw through it very plainly!  How simple he had been!  Of course, she could not permit him to feel that she had ever displayed the slightest interest in him!  His spirits shot upward so suddenly that Baggs accused him of “negotiating a drink on the sly” and felt very much injured that he had been ignored.

The gardens of the palace were not unlike the stage setting of a great spectacle.  The sleepy, stolid character of the court had been transformed, as if by magic.  Chase wondered where all the pretty, vivacious women could have sprung from—­and were these the officers of the Royal Guard that he had so often laughed at in disdain?  Could that gay old gentleman in red and gold be the morbid, carelessly clad Duke of Rapp-Thorberg, whom he had grown to despise because he seemed so ridiculously unlike a real potentate?  He marvelled and rejoiced as he strolled hither and thither with the casual Baggs, and for the first time in his life really felt that it was pleasant to be stared at—­in admiration, too, he may be pardoned for supposing.

He could not again approach within speaking distance of the Princess—­nor did he presume to make the effort.  Chase knew his proper place.  It must be admitted, however, that he was never far distant from her, but perhaps chance was responsible for that—­chance and Baggs, who, by nature, kept as close to royalty as the restrictions allowed.

She was the gayest, the most vivacious being in the whole assemblage; she had but to stretch out her hand or project her smile and every man in touch with the spell was ready to drop at her feet.  At last, she led her court off toward the pavilion under which the royal orchestra was playing.  As if it were a signal, every one turned his steps in that direction.  Chase and the Englishman had been conversing diligently with an ancient countess and her two attractive daughters near the fountain.  The Countess gave the command in the middle of Chase’s dissertation on Italian cooking, and the party hastily fell in line with the throng which hurried forward.

“What is it?  Supper again?” whispered Baggs, lugubriously.

One of the young women, doubtless observing the look of curiosity in the face of the American, volunteered the information that the orchestra was to repeat the great number which had so stirred the musical world at the concert the week before.  Chase’s look of despair was instantly banished by the recollection that the Princess had bestowed unqualified approval on the previous occasion.  Hence, if she enjoyed it, he was determined to be pleased.