“It appears to me,” said Amelia, rudely interrupting him, “that ‘fortunate’ and ‘unfortunate’ are not terms which can be properly used in any connection between a princess of Prussia and yourself.”  Amelia then turned toward her sister and gave her a glance which plainly said:  Well, do I not play my role in masterly style?  Have I not hastened to follow your counsels?  “Speak, sister; name the point which Count Tessin dares to contest with you.”

“Oh, the count is a man and a scholar, and has full right to differ,” said Ulrica, graciously.  “The question was a comparison of Queen Elizabeth of England and Queen Christina of Sweden.  I maintain that Christina had a stronger and more powerful intellect; that she knew better how to conquer her spirit, to master her womanly weaknesses; that she was more thoroughly cultivated, and studied philosophy and science, not as Elizabeth, for glitter and show, but because she had an inward thirst for knowledge.  The count asserts that Elizabeth was better versed in statecraft, and a more amiable woman.  Now, Amelia, to which of these two queens do you give the preference?”

“Oh, without doubt, to Queen Christina of Sweden.  This great woman was wise enough not to regard the crown of Sweden as a rare and precious gem; she chose a simple life of obscurity and poverty in beautiful Italy, rather than a throne in cold and unfruitful Sweden.  This act alone establishes her superiority.  Yes, sister, you are right.  Christina was the greater woman, even because she scorned to be Queen of Sweden.”

So saying, Amelia bowed slightingly, and, turning aside, she summoned Madame von Kleist, and commenced a merry chat with her.  Count Tessin regarded her with a dark and scornful glance, and pressed his lips tightly together, as if to restrain his anger.

“I beseech you, count,” said Ulrica, in a low, soft voice, “not to be offended at the thoughtless words of my dear little sister.  It is true, she is a little rude and resentful to-day; but you will see—­ to-morrow, perhaps, will be one of her glorious sunny days, and you will find her irresistibly charming.  Her moods are changeable, and for that reason we call her our little ‘April fee.’”

“Ah, the princess is, then, as uncertain as April?” said the count, with a frosty smile.

“More uncertain than April,” said Ulrica, sweetly.  “But what would you, sir? we all, brothers and sisters, are responsible for that.  You must know that she is our favorite, and is always indulged.  I counsel you not to find fault with our little sister, Count Tessin; that would be to bring an accusation against us all.  You have suffered to-day from a shower of her April moods; to-morrow you may rejoice in the sunshine of her favor.”

“I shall, however, be doubtful and anxious,” said the ambassador, coolly; “the April sun is sometimes accompanied by rain and storm, and these sudden changes bring sickness and death.”