The Electress took the Prince’s proffered arm, and swept through the door held open for her by the lackey.  The steward of the household, who had awaited them in the antechamber, golden staff in hand, now preceded them, the lackeys flew before them to open the doors, and through a suite of gloomy, deserted rooms, with old-fashioned, dusty, and half-decayed furniture, moved the princely pair, followed by Baron von Leuchtmar, behind whom strutted the lackeys at a respectful distance.  The Elector stood with the two Princesses in the deep recess of the great window, when his wife and son entered; he greeted them both with a short nod of the head, and, casting a dark, unfriendly glance at Baron von Leuchtmar, who was reverentially approaching him, gave his arm to his wife, and led her to the two upper places at the oblong table.

“It seems our son can not dispense with his tutor,” said he, in a low, peevish tone of voice to the Electress.  “He brings his tutor to dine with us, as if it were a matter of course.”

“I beg your pardon, George,” whispered the Electress.  “I invited the baron, whom I found in our son’s room.  Do me the favor to receive him affably.  He has bestowed much labor and love upon our son, and has ever been a faithful servant to us.”

“To you, perhaps, but not to me,” muttered the Elector, while he allowed himself to sink down in his great, round easychair, thereby giving the signal for dinner to commence.

The hours of dinner were usually those in which George William was accustomed to dismiss all the cares and anxieties of government, and to give himself up with cheerful countenance to harmless conversation with his wife and daughters.

At times he even loved to carry on a lively chat with those court officials who were present, at the table, or to amuse himself with hearing their recital of the events of the day or the gossip of the town.  But to-day the Elector remained gloomy and taciturn.  He left it to his wife to lead the conversation, and get from the Electoral Prince accounts of her dear relations at the Dutch court.  The Prince answered all her questions, confining himself meanwhile to the duly necessary, and never spontaneously adding anything or entering into any details as to his own life and residence at the court of Holland.  The Elector continued to listen in moody silence, and this reserve on the part of his son seemed to put him still more out of humor.  His face continually grew darker, and he even disdainfully pushed away untasted his favorite dish, a wild boar’s head, served up with lemons in its mouth, after it had been presented to him for the third time.