“But my dear Fraeulein, why mind a woman seeing it?”

“But what do you want to see it for?”

“I wish to help you.”

“I don’t want to be helped.  I’ll show it to nobody—­to nobody at all.  It’s much too—­too dreadful.”

“Well, well, do not be agitated.  Girls, I know, are vain.  If any one can help you it will be Dr. Kraus.  He is an excellent physician, is he not?”

“Yes,” said Priscilla, dropping back into her corner.

“The Grand Duke is a great admirer of his.  He is going to ennoble him.”

“Really?”

“They say—­no doubt it is gossip, but still, you know, he is a very handsome man—­that the Countess von Disthal will marry him.”

“Gracious!” cried Priscilla, startled, “what, whether he wants to or not?”

“No doubt he will want to.  It would be a brilliant match for him.”

“But she’s at least a hundred.  Why, she looks like his mother.  And he is a person of no birth at all.”

“Birth?  He is of course not noble yet, but his family is excellent.  And since it is not possible to have as many ailments as she has and still be alive, some at least must be feigned.  Why, then, should she feign if it is not in order to see the doctor?  They were saying in Kunitz that she sent for him this very day.”

“Yes, she did.  But she’s really ill this time.  I’m afraid the poor thing caught cold watching—­dear me, only see how sweetly your little boy sleeps.  You should make Levallier paint him in that position.”

“Ah, he looks truly lovely, does he not.  Exactly thus does his dear father look when asleep.  Sometimes I cannot sleep myself for joy over the splendid picture.  What is the matter with the Countess Disthal?  Did Dr. Kraus tell you?”

“No, no.  I—­I heard something—­a rumour.”

“Ah, something feigned again, no doubt.  Well, it will be a great match for him.  You know she is lady-in-waiting to the Princess Priscilla, the one who is so popular and has such red hair?  The Countess has an easy life.  The other two Princesses have given their ladies a world of trouble, but Priscilla—­oh, she is a model.  Kunitz is indeed proud of her.  They say in all things she is exactly what a Princess should be, and may be trusted never to say or do anything not entirely fitting her station.  You have seen her?  She often drives through the town, and then the people all run and look as pleased as if it were a holiday.  We in Gerstein are quite jealous.  Our duchy has no such princess to show.  Do you think she is so beautiful?  I have often seen her, and I do not think she is.  People exaggerate everything so about a princess.  My husband does not admire her at all.  He says it is not what he calls classic.  Her hair, for instance—­but that one might get over.  And people who are really beautiful always have dark eyelashes.  Then her nose—­my husband often laughs, and says her nose—­”

“Oh,” said Priscilla, faintly, “I’ve got a dreadful headache.  I think I’ll try to sleep a little if you would not mind not talking.”