  I am ordered to repair to a country house with the hated spy as my Grand Mistress—My first impulse to go home, but afraid parents won't have me. Dresden, August 10, 1894. Order from the King that myself and children spend the rest of the summer at Villa Loschwitz, to remain until I get royal permission to return to Dresden,—the Tisch to act as chief of my household. Banished! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Smile, because I escaped the ennui of attending court at the summer residence of Pillnitz; weep, because my absence from court would be interpreted as a disciplinary measure. I know Pillnitz is about as gay as a Trappist feast of carrion and ant's milk, but this princess doesn't want to be disciplined. I shall tell them that I want to go home, but will they have me in Salzburg? Papa, of course, but if mother hears of my acquaintance with Heine, "who doesn't love Jesus,"—her own words,—she will undoubtedly side with Prince George against her daughter. It was Heine who wrote of I hear her say: "I think Prince George is most considerate sending our daughter to Loschwitz. She deserved to be put in a nunnery and made to kneel on unboiled peas three times a day." And when it comes to an Éclat, even papa may have to abandon me. Emperor Francis Joseph holds the purse-strings; and papa always lives beyond his means and Francis Joseph, King Albert and Prince George are fast friends. If papa quarrelled with the two latter gentlemen, they would immediately denounce him to the Emperor. The rest can easily be guessed. Sorry, but papa is no hero in his daughter's eyes. |
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