"Don't let me wait any longer for your answer," said Bruno to his sister; "are you ready?"

"I beg your pardon. What was it? I was so preoccupied that I didn't hear you."

Bruno looked at his sister with an air of surprise. Irma had indeed not heard him. She had been puzzling her brain in regard to the king's behavior. He had plainly intimated that he would allow no one to influence his course in state affairs. It now occurred to Irma that the tone of the letter which she had written while at the convent, had been quite improper, and her heart was filled with thanks to the great and noble man, who, having it in his power to forgive her, had forgiven her so gracefully. She felt doubly grateful to him for refusing to be swayed by her ardent entreaties. She was, herself, in doubt as to the best course, and it now seemed to her, as at first, that it was the duty of the state to prevent the consummation of an irrevocable vow.

"I beg your pardon," she again said to her brother. "Do you wish anything of me?"

"You must go with me to-morrow," said Bruno; "we're going on a journey. I've already obtained leave of absence for myself, and the queen will grant you leave."

"Go on a journey? Where?"

"To witness my betrothal."

"Surely not with--?"

"Certainly; with the king's sister; or, if you'd rather have it so, his half, or quarter sister. Baroness Arabella von Steigeneck will be delighted to make your acquaintance."

Irma looked down. It was the oldest daughter of the dancer who had been ennobled by the late king. Irma spoke of the impression that this marriage would make upon her father; but Bruno jestingly answered, that he and his sister had been separated from their father, who indulged the strange whim of desiring to be a common citizen. Perceiving that his remarks displeased Irma, he changed his manner and explained to her how cruel and narrow-minded it would be to make Baroness Arabella, who had royal blood in her veins, suffer on account of a few irregularities for which she was not to blame. And when he represented to Irma, that, independent of his wishes, it was her duty to meet Arabella in a spirit of kindness and without prejudice, he touched the right chord. He added:

"You are so affectionate to the simple minded peasant woman, the crown prince's nurse. It is very cheap to practice humanity toward one of the lower classes. You will find its exercise pleasanter and more effective in this instance."

"I am glad to find that you think so," replied Irma, regarding her brother with a more cheerful glance.

Bruno was delighted. He had used the right bait, and, for a few moments, found real pleasure in conversing on such subjects as elevation of mind and nobility of soul. Irma consented to accompany him. When she applied to the queen for leave of absence, and the latter, in the most delicate manner, intimated surprise at Bruno's choice, Irma proved herself so zealous an advocate of humanity that the queen could not avoid saying to her:

"You are, and ever will be, a noble heart."

Irma imprinted a fervent kiss on the queen's hand. They started off on their journey, taking with them Bruno's two private servants, and jockey Fritz, Baum's son. Father Baum, who was both indispensable and ubiquitous, also accompanied them.

Bruno was in high spirits. Like all other epicures, he was not averse to occasional tender scenes. He played the piano excellently and, at times, would indulge in a sentimental adagio. Irma now seemed sentimental in his eyes. But he soon tired of the melting mood and in his flippant, jesting manner, exclaimed:

"I am better than the world of cavaliers that surround us. You smile--and wonder what sort of cavaliers they must be among whom I am the best.--Yes, dear sister Krimhilde, it is so nevertheless. I honestly confess that I only marry this lady in order to be enabled to lead as jolly a life as possible, and am I not better than those who act the hypocrite in such a case?"

"Yes, if you think that makes you better. But I think you're simply ashamed of being in love, and are afraid of appearing sentimental."

"Thanks! You're a profound judge of human nature."

Bruno, at heart, desired his sister to imagine that he was in love; for that would render the demeanor of both of them more natural and more befitting the occasion. He blushed and smiled with a bashful air.

Baroness Steigeneck lived in a little town and occupied a castle which had once been a retreat of a sister of the late king.

They reached the castle. A bright peacock stood on the high wall, and filled the air with its shrill cry.

Rooms had been prepared for Bruno and Irma, who retired to change their dress. Bruno appeared in full uniform, and with all his medals and orders. They were conducted to Baroness Steigeneck's salon by two servants, who opened the folding doors. Baroness Steigeneck, who was clad in studiously simple attire, came forward to meet Bruno and Irma, and received them with a graceful bow. Bruno kissed her, and then embraced his betrothed, who, in form and feature, presented a pleasing appearance. He introduced her to his sister, who embraced and kissed her.

The furniture of the castle was splendid, but in somewhat gaudy taste, with more regard to show than comfort. A life-size picture of the late king was displayed in the great salon.

Irma felt alarmed when she first beheld the old baroness. Her boudoir was hung with pictures of herself, taken while she was yet a young, beautiful and voluptuous creature, and representing her in various bold poses, such as Psyche, Eros, and the Fairy Queen. And could this heavy woman, with rigid features, be the same person? Her chief employment was card-playing, and it was here, for the first time in her life, that Irma saw people who would sit at cards by the hour, out in the open air, under the trees, and amid the singing of birds. What would become of some people, how empty their lives would be, if there were no cards!

The time was pleasantly spent with music--for Baroness Arabella sang beautifully,--merry dinners and excursions in the neighborhood. Irma could not help watching the servants, and wondering how they felt, and what their thoughts must be, while serving such a mistress. But she saw the same respect shown as at court; and when they drove through the little town, the people would stop and lift their hats in token of respect, for the baroness had brought life and money to the place. Everything in this world, even respect, can be purchased.

Three days sped by quickly. Baroness Steigeneck held a little court, quite modest in appearance. An old and exceedingly eccentric French legitimist was the special attraction of this, and French was the only language spoken.

The formal betrothal was speedily settled by the notary, whom Bruno had brought with him from the capital. He had been carefully instructed, and it fared hard with the old Baroness. There were all sorts of devilishly close clauses in reference to death or separation. Bruno had made himself secure. The Baroness jestingly spoke of love, and said that she had not imagined such enthusiasm possible at the present day. Bruno agreed with her, for they both well knew that it was simply a question of money.

Arabella had the air of a well-bred lady and possessed that degree of education that can be purchased from teachers. She could sing and sketch, and spoke three foreign languages, which, at her mother's bidding, she was obliged to make a parade of. But all of this showed application, rather than native talent. She had also read a great deal, but affected ignorance of certain works, passages in which might be applied to herself or her mother.

Irma was exceedingly kind to her sister-in-law, and Bruno heartily thanked her. And yet Irma's mind was not at ease. The house seemed under the influence of a peculiar spell--it was just as if in fairy-land. People would go about, and laugh and joke and sing and play, but there was one word they dared not utter; for, at the very mention of it, the castle, with all its pomp and splendor, would disappear. And that word was: "father." But it was here that Irma was the more impelled to think of her father. When alone in her room, she began a letter to him, and when she wrote the words; "Dear Father," she looked about her. She regarded it as her duty, and thought herself better able than Bruno, to inform her father of the betrothal, and to invoke his forbearance for this unfortunate, though wealthy, girl. Never before had she made so many unsuccessful attempts to write a letter. She had begun again and again, and had always ended by tearing up the sheet and throwing it into the fire. She found it impossible to finish her letter, and at last concluded to wait until she returned to the summer palace. But she could not get rid a desire to speak of parents, and when Baum came to her with a message, she detained him with the question:

"Baum, are your parents still living?"

"No."

"Did you know them long?"

Baum coughed behind his raised hand and answered: "I never knew my father; and my mother--my mother was taken from me long ago."

Baum, who still held his hand before his face, bit his lips and at last ventured to ask: "May I inquire, my lady, why you put that question to me?"

"I desire to acquaint myself with the life and history of those whom I know personally."

Baum dropped his hand and his face was as smooth and void of expression as before.

The strictest decorum was observed during their stay at the castle. On one occasion, however, Irma felt offended, and that was when the old lady--they called her "Her Grace"--declared the relation of an affianced couple the silliest of all conventionalities--the most natural and proper course would be to have marriage follow immediately upon the betrothal--yes, in the very same hour.

These remarks were accompanied by a peculiar change in the expression of the old lady's features. Irma was startled and did not get over her fright, for when, at parting, the baroness impressed a kiss upon her, Irma could not help shuddering.

Irma had been in the carriage for some time, when Bruno at last came, and again stopped to throw a kiss to his betrothed, who was standing at the window.

They drove off, and when Irma found herself alone with her brother she said, in a loud voice and with a strange expression:

"Oh, father! father!" She drew a long and deep breath, as if relieved from some dread spell.

"What ails you?" said Bruno.

Irma did not care to tell him what she felt, and merely replied:

"As soon as we get back to the palace, you must write to father, or, what would be better, must go to him. Let him scold you, if it must be. He's our father, after all, and will be kind to you once more and accept what is past."

"We had better write," said Bruno.

"No!" exclaimed Irma, clasping both his hands, "you must do it, for Arabella's sake."

"For her sake?"

"Yes. I wish her to feel that there is some one whom she can address as 'father'; that would be the happiest moment she had ever known."

Bruno drew back. After a little while, he said: "Let us speak softly. You know, I suppose, that you've touched me in a tender spot. Arabella couldn't call any one father, and can't do so now. Irma, you're strong enough to look the truth in the face. What is it that forms the indissoluble bond between father and child? It is not nature alone, but history. By rejecting our rank, our father has denied father and mother and our long line of ancestors. It was he who broke the strong and glittering chain that, through him, linked us to our house. We have renewed the connection which was thus broken, but, in doing so, have become sundered from our father. He separated himself from us; in the sense in which you mean, we can neither of us say 'father.'"

Irma turned pale. She had never thought of the matter in that light, and had never dreamt that Bruno would thus defend his course. She had thought his life naught but frivolity, and now, for the first time, beheld the deep chasm that separated them. She was about to reply that her father had remained true to all that was noble, to all that the best of their ancestors had transmitted to him, and that he had simply cast aside the external prerogatives of rank. But, for the first time, she felt that she could not maintain her ground against her brother. She too, had separated herself from her father. She was silent. They drove on and, for hours, neither spoke a word. They reached the summer palace. To all who congratulated her on her brother's betrothal, Irma offered most courteous thanks. She felt strangely embarrassed in the presence of the court jeweler, who had been requested to present himself at the palace with various caskets of gems. She was to join Bruno in selecting a rich present for Arabella. She did so, but would not suffer any of the jewels to be tried on herself. Her maid was present for that purpose, and, at last, they decided on a rich set of diamonds, which was at once dispatched to Bruno's betrothed.