received the guests upon the threshold of the house.  But now resounded a loud shouting and huzzaing, rolling nearer and ever nearer, like a monstrous wave, and an unusual, joyful movement pervaded the densely packed mass of men.  “They come! they come!” sounded from mouth to mouth, and small people raised themselves on tiptoe, and tall ones turned their heads toward the corner of the cathedral square.  Already they saw the foot runner, with his plumed hat and golden staff, as he came bounding on, then the two foreriders in their bright blue liveries, with low, round caps upon their heads, and then the electoral equipage, the great gilded coach of state, drawn by four black horses.

“Who is sitting in the coach of state?  Is the Electoral Prince in it?  Does he come in the same carriage with his father?”

The people grew dumb from impatience and expectancy, in the midst of their cries of joy; they wanted to see!  All eyes shone with curiosity as the equipage rolled on.  Over in the park, behind the railing, stood the drummers, and they began to beat a roll, which the boys riding on the railing seconded with genuine rapture.  The trumpeters blew a flourish, and now Count Schwarzenberg himself issued from the broad palace door, followed by his son, the young Count John Adolphus.  Ah! how glorious to behold was the Stadtholder in the Mark in his official costume as Grand Master of the Order of St. John, his breast quite covered with the stars of the order, whose gems glittered and sparkled so wondrously; and how handsome looked the young count, in his white suit of silver brocade, with puffs of purple velvet, his short, ermine-edged mantle of purple velvet, confined at the shoulders by clasps.  The two counts made haste down the steps to the equipage.  The Stadtholder in his amiable impatience opened the carriage door himself, and offered the Elector George William both his hands to assist him in alighting.  And now, laboriously, gasping, with flushed face, and a forced smile upon his lips, the Elector dismounted from his carriage.  Leaning upon his favorite’s arm, slowly and clumsily he moved forward to the house, his stout, lofty form bent, his gait heavy, and his blue eyes, which were only once turned to the gaping multitude, sad—­oh, so sad!  The people looked with pity and compassion upon the poor, peevish gentleman, who, in spite of the great Prince’s star upon his breast and the Electoral hat with its waving plumes, was not by far so splendid to behold as the proud, stately Count Adam, who strode along at his side.

While the Stadtholder was conducting the Elector into the palace, the Electress alighted from the carriage, the two young Princesses following her.  A loud cry of joy and admiration rang out, and called a smile to the lips of the Electress, a deep blush to the cheeks of the Princesses.  The Electress’s robe, with its long train of gold brocade, was wondrous to behold, and above it the blue velvet mantle with