Herr von Wallmoden did not escape this fate; he was received most graciously and congratulated at once upon the great beauty of his wife, about which there could be no dispute.

“Your excellency has indeed my warmest congratulations.  I was quite surprised when your young wife was presented to me.  I had, as a matter of course, expected to meet a much older woman.”

The “matter of course” had a malicious sound, for the princess had known for the past six months that the elderly ambassador was married to a girl of nineteen; he smiled in a perfectly placid manner, as he answered: 

“Your highness is very good.  I cannot be too thankful if my wife has made a favorable impression upon yourself and your family.”

“O, you need not doubt that the duke and duchess are quite of my opinion.  Frau von Wallmoden is really a beauty—­Prince Adelsberg seems to think so also.  Perhaps you have not noticed how greatly he admires her?”

“Yes, your highness, I have noticed it.”

“Really?  And what do you say to it?”

“I?” asked Wallmoden, composedly.  “Whether or no she cares to accept the prince’s homage is wholly and solely my wife’s affair.  If she finds any pleasure in it—­I certainly will lay no commands upon her.”

“Your enviable confidence in your wife should be an example to younger husbands,” replied the princess, angry that her arrow had missed its aim.  “It is very pleasant, at least for a young wife, to feel that her husband is not jealous.  Ah, here comes Frau von Wallmoden herself, with her knight by her side.  My dear baroness, we were just speaking of you.”

Adelheid von Wallmoden, who with Prince Adelsberg, had just entered the room, made a courtesy to the princess.  She was indeed dazzling in her beauty to-day, for her rich Court toilette so well chosen, suited her most admirably.  The costly white brocade, with its long, heavy folds, set off her slender figure to advantage, the pearls which encircled her neck, and the diamonds which glistened in her light blonde hair, were jewels well worth the notice of connoisseurs; but that which was most worthy of attention was the singular coldness and earnestness of this young wife’s face and bearing.  She bore no resemblance whatever to others of her own age in this brilliant assemblage, who were for the most part married also, and who were decked out in all the witcheries of lace and flowers.  They possessed nothing of her stateliness, but she in turn had none of their sweetness or assumed gentleness; none of that premeditated amiability which society women assume under the public gaze.  The severe rigidity of that lovely face was a heritage from her father, whose stern, austere nature had left its impress upon her soul as well.

Egon kissed the hand of his illustrious aunt, and murmured a few polite words of greeting, but the amiable attention of her highness was directed toward the beautiful woman who had just joined them.