Chapter XIII: Part 13

"There you are! Thank heaven! Didn't I say that I must succeed in the long run? And so you think now that I am in earnest, real, serious earnest about you and about us?"

"Yes, Prince; latterly I have thought that I can think so."

"At last, at last, irresolute little Imma! Oh, how I thank you, I thank you! But in that case you're not afraid, and will let the whole world know that you belong to me?"

"Let them know that you belong to me, Royal Highness, if it's all the same to you."

"That I will, Imma, loudly and surely. But only on one condition, namely, that we don't only think of our own happiness in a selfish and frivolous way, but regard it all from the point of view of the Mass, the Whole. For the public weal and our happiness, you see, are interdependent."

"Well said, Prince. For without our studies of the public weal I should have found it difficult to decide to have confidence in you."

"And without you, Imma, to warm my heart, I should have found it difficult to tackle such practical problems."

"Right; then we'll see what we can do, each in our own place. You with your folk and I--with my father."

"Little sister," he answered quietly, and pressed her more closely to him in the dance. "Little bride."

Undoubtedly a peculiar plighting of troth.

To be frank, everything was not yet settled, or nearly settled. Looking back, one must say that, if one factor in the whole had been altered or removed, the whole would have been in imminent danger of coming to nothing. What a blessing, the chronicler feels tempted to cry, what a blessing that there was a man at the head of affairs who faced the music firmly and undaunted, indeed not without a dash of rashness, and did not judge a thing to be impossible just because it had never happened before.

The conversation which Excellency von Knobelsdorff had about eight days after the memorable Court Ball with Grand Duke Albrecht II in the Old Schloss belongs to the history of the times. The day before, the President of Council had presided over a session of the Cabinet, about which the _Courier_ had been in the position to report that questions of finance and the private affairs of the Grand Ducal family had been discussed, and further--added the newspaper in spaced type--that complete unanimity of opinion had been reached among the Ministers. So Herr von Knobelsdorff found himself in a strong position towards his young Monarch at the audience; for he had not only the swarming mass of the people, but also the unanimous will of the Government at his back.

The conversation in Albrecht's draughty study took scarcely less time than that in the little yellow room at Schloss "Hermitage." A pause was made while the Grand Duke had a lemonade and Herr von Knobelsdorff a glass of port and biscuits. The long duration of the conversation was due only to the importance of the material to be discussed, not to the Monarch's opposition; for Albrecht raised none. In his close frock-coat, with his thin, sensitive hands crossed on his lap, his proud, refined head with its pointed beard and narrow temples raised and his eyelids sunk, he sucked gently with his lower lip against his upper, and accompanied Herr von Knobelsdorff's remarks with an occasional slight nod, which expressed agreement and disagreement at the same time, an uninterested formal agreement without prejudice to his unassailable personal dignity.

Herr von Knobelsdorff plunged straight into the middle of things, and spoke about Prince Klaus Heinrich's visits to Schloss Delphinenort. Albrecht knew of them. A subdued echo of the events which kept the city and the country on tip-toe had penetrated even into his loneliness; he knew, too, his brother Klaus Heinrich, who had "rummaged" and gossiped with the lackeys, and, then he knocked his forehead against the big table, had wept for sympathy with his forehead--and in effect he needed no coaching. Lisping and reddening slightly, he gave Herr von Knobelsdorff to understand this, and added that, seeing that the other had not intervened, but had caused the millionaire's daughter to be introduced to him, he concluded that Herr von Knobelsdorff approved of the Prince's behaviour, although he, the Grand Duke, could not clearly see what it would lead to.

"The Government," answered Herr von Knobelsdorff, "would set itself in prejudicial and estranging opposition to the will of the people if it thwarted the Prince's projects."

"Has my brother, then, definite projects?"

"For a long time," corrected Herr von Knobelsdorff, "he acted without any plan and merely as his heart dictated; but since he has found himself with the people on terms of reality, his wishes have taken a practical form."

"All of which means that the public approves the steps taken by the Prince?"

"That it acclaims them, Royal Highness--that its dearest hopes are fixed on them."

And now Herr von Knobelsdorff unrolled once more the dark picture of the state of the country, of its distress, of the serious embarrassment. Where was a remedy to be found? Yonder, only yonder, in the Town Park, in the second centre of the city, in the house of the invalid Money-Prince, our guest and resident, round whose person the people wove their dreams, and for whom it would be a small matter to put an end to all our difficulties. It he could be induced to take upon himself our national finances, their recovery would be assured. Would he be induced? But fate had ordained an exchange of sympathy between the mighty man's only daughter and Prince Klaus Heinrich. And was this wise and gracious ordinance to be flouted? Ought one for the sake of mulish, out-of-date traditions to prevent a union which embraced so immeasurable a blessing for the country and its people? For that it did was a necessary hypothesis, from which the union must draw its justification and validity. But if this condition were fulfilled, if Samuel Spoelmann were ready, not to mince words, to finance the State, then this union was not only admissible, it was necessary, it was salvation, the welfare of the State demanded it, and prayers rose to heaven for it, far beyond the frontiers, wherever any interest was felt in the restoration of our finances and the avoidance of an economic panic.

At this point the Grand Duke asked a question quietly, with a mocking smile and without looking up.

"And the succession to the throne?" he asked.

"The law," answered Herr von Knobelsdorff, unshaken, "places it in your Royal Highness's hand to put aside dynastic scruples. With us the grant of an advance in rank and even of equal birth belongs to the prerogatives of the monarch, and when could history show a more potent motive for the exercise of these privileges? This union bears the mark of its own genuineness, preparations have been long in making for its reception in the heart of the people, and your entire princely and State approval would signify to the people nothing more than an outward satisfaction of their inmost convictions."

And Herr von Knobelsdorff went on to speak of Imma Spoelmann's popularity, of the significant demonstration in connexion with her recovery from a slight indisposition, of the position of equal birth which this exceptional person assumed in popular fancy--and the wrinkles played round his eyes as he reminded Albrecht of the old prophecy current among the people, which told of a prince who would give the country more with one hand than others had given it with two, and eloquently demonstrated how the union between Klaus Heinrich and Spoelmann's daughter must seem to the people the fulfilment of the oracle, and thus God's will and right and proper.

Herr von Knobelsdorff said a great deal more which was clever, honest, and good. He alluded to the fourfold mixture of blood in Imma Spoelmann--for besides the Anglo-Saxon, Portuguese and German, some drops of ancient Indian blood were said to flow in her veins--and emphasized the fact that he expected the dynasty to benefit greatly by the quickening effect of the mixture of races on ancient stocks. But the artless old gentleman made his greatest effect when he talked about the huge and beneficial alterations which would be caused in the economical state of the Court itself, our debt-laden and sore-pressed Court, through the heir to the throne's bold marriage.

It was at this point that Albrecht sucked most proudly at his upper lip. The value of gold was falling, the out-goings were increasing--increasing in pursuance of an economic law which held for the Court finances just as much as for every private household; and there was no possibility of increasing the revenues. But it was not right that the monarch's means should be inferior to those of many of his subjects; it was from the monarch's point of view intolerable that soap-boiler Unschlitt's house should have had central heating a long time ago, but that the Old Schloss should not have got it yet. A remedy was necessary, in more than one way, and lucky was the princely house to which so grand a remedy as this offered itself.

It was noteworthy in our times that all the old-time modesty as to busying oneself in the financial concerns of the Court had vanished. That self-renunciation with which princely families used formerly to make the heaviest sacrifices, so as to keep the public from disenchanting glimpses into their financial affairs, was no longer to be found, and law-suits and questionable sales were the order of the day. But was not an alliance with sovereign riches preferable to this petty and bourgeois kind of device--a union which would exalt the monarch for ever high above all economic worries and place him in a position to reveal himself to the people with all those outward signs for which they longed?

So ran Herr von Knobelsdorff's questions, which he himself answered with an unqualified Yes! In short, his speech was so clever and so irresistible that he did not leave the Old Schloss without taking with him consents and authorizations, delivered to him with a proud lisp, which were quite comprehensive enough to warrant unprecedented conclusions, if only Miss Spoelmann had done her share.

And so things ran their memorable course to a happy conclusion. Even before the end of December names were mentioned of people who had seen (not only heard tell of) Lord Marshal von Bühl zu Bühl in a fur coat, a top-hat on his brown head, and his gold pince-nez on his nose, get out of a Court carriage at Delphinenort, at 11 o'clock on a snow-dark morning, and disappear waddling into the Schloss. At the beginning of January there were individuals going about the town who swore that the man who, this time also in the morning and in fur coat and top-hat, had passed by the grinning negro in plush, through the door of Delphinenort, and, with feverish haste, had flung himself into a cab which was waiting for him, was undoubtedly our Finance Minister, Dr. Krippenreuther. And at the same time there appeared in the semi-official _Courier_ the first preparatory notices of rumours touching an impending betrothal in the Grand Ducal House--tentative notifications which, becoming carefully clearer and clearer, at last exhibited the two names, Klaus Heinrich and Imma Spoelmann, in clear print next each other.... It was no new collocation, but to see it in black on white had the same effect as strong wine.

It was most absorbing to notice what attitude, in the journalistic discussions which ensued, our enlightened and open-minded press took up towards the popular aspect of the affair, namely, the prophecy, which had won too great political significance not to demand education and intelligence to deal satisfactorily with it. Sooth-saying, chiromancy, and similar magic, explained the _Courier_, were, so far as the destiny of individuals was concerned, to be relegated to the murky regions of superstition. They belonged to the grey middle ages, and no ridicule was too severe for the idiots who (very rarely in the cities nowadays) let experienced pick-pockets empty their purses in return for reading, from their hands, the cards, or coffee-grounds, their insignificant fortunes, or for invoking sound health, for a homoeopathic cure, or for freeing their sick cattle from invading demons--as if the Apostle had not already asked: "Doth God take care for oxen?"

But, surveyed as a whole and restricted to decisive turns in the destiny of whole nations or dynasties, the proposition did not necessarily repel a well-trained and scientific mind, that, as time is only an illusion and, truly viewed, all happenings are stationary in eternity, such revolutions while still in the lap of the future might give the human brain a premonitory shock and reveal themselves palpably to it. And in proof of this the zealous newspaper published an exhaustive composition, kindly put at its disposal by one of our high-school professors, which gave a conspectus of all the cases in the history of mankind in which oracle and horoscope, somnambulism, clairvoyance, dreams, sleep-walking, second-sight, and inspiration had played a rôle, a most meritorious production, which produced the due effect in cultured circles.

So press, Government, Court, and public closed their ranks in complete understanding, and assuredly the _Courier_ would have held its tongue had its philosophical contributions been premature and politically dangerous at that time--in a word, had not the negotiations at Delphinenort already advanced far in a favourable direction. It is pretty accurately known by now how these negotiations developed, and what a difficult, indeed painful, task our Counsel had in them: the Counsel, to whom as proxy of the Court the delicate mission had fallen of preparing the way for Prince Klaus Heinrich's courtship, as well as the Chief Financial Assessor, who, notwithstanding his infirm state of health, insisted on nursing his country's interests by a personal interview with Samuel Spoelmann.

In this connexion account must be taken firstly of Mr. Spoelmann's fiery and excitable disposition, and secondly of the fact that to the prodigious little man a favourable termination to the business from our point of view seemed far less important than it did to us. Apart from Mr. Spoelmann's love for his daughter, who had opened her heart to him and told him of her pretty wish to make herself useful in her love, our proxies had not one trump to play against him, and he was the last man to whom Dr. Krippenreuther could dictate conditions in virtue of what Herr von Bühl had to offer. Mr. Spoelmann always spoke of Prince Klaus Heinrich as "the young man," and expressed so little pleasure at the prospect of giving his daughter to a Royal Highness to wife, that Dr. Krippenreuther, as well as Herr von Bühl, were more than once plunged into deadly embarrassment.

"If he'd only learnt something, had some respectable business," he snarled peevishly. "But a young man who only knows how to get cheered ..." He was really furious, the first time a remark was dropped about morganatic marriage. His daughter, he declared once for all, was no concubine, and would be no left-handed wife. Who marries her, marries her.... But the interests of the dynasty and the country coincided at this point with his own. The obtaining of issue entitled to succeed was a necessity, and Herr von Bühl was equipped with all the powers which Herr von Knobelsdorff had succeeded in extracting from the Grand Duke. As for Dr. Krippenreuther's mission, however, it owed its success not to the envoy's eloquence, but simply to Mr. Spoelmann's paternal affection, the complaisance of a suffering, weary father, whose abnormal existence had long ago made him a paradox, towards his only daughter and heiress, whom he allowed to choose for herself the public funds in which she wished to invest her fortune.

And so came into existence the agreements, which were at first shrouded in deep secrecy and only came to light bit by bit, as events developed themselves, though here they can be summarized in a few plain words.

The betrothal of Klaus Heinrich with Imma Spoelmann was approved and recognized by Samuel Spoelmann and by the House of Grimmburg. Simultaneously with the publication of the betrothal in the _Gazette_ appeared the announcement of the elevation of the bride to the rank of countess--under a fancy name of romantic sound, like that which Klaus Heinrich had borne during his educational tour in the fair southern lands; and on the day of their wedding the wife of the heir-presumptive was to be given the dignity of a princess. The two rises in rank, which might have cost four thousand eight hundred marks, were to be free of duty.

The wedding was to be only preliminarily a left-handed one, till the world had got used to it: for on the day on which it appeared that the bride was to be blessed with offspring, Albrecht II, in view of the unparalleled circumstances, would declare his brother's morganatic wife to be of equal birth, and would give her the rank of a princess of the Grand Ducal House with the title of Royal Highness. The new member of the ruling House would waive all claim to an appanage. As for the Court ceremony, only a semi-Court was appointed for the celebration of the left-handed marriage, but a Processional Court, that highest and completest form of showing allegiance, was fixed for the celebration of the declaration of equal birth. Samuel Spoelmann, for his part, granted the State a loan of three hundred and fifty million marks, and on such fatherly conditions that the loan showed all the symptoms of being a gift.

It was the Grand Duke Albrecht who acquainted the Heir Presumptive with these conclusions. Once more Klaus Heinrich stood in the great, draughty study under the battered ceiling-paintings, in front of his brother, as once before when Albrecht had delegated to him his representative duties, and standing in an official attitude received the great news. He had put on the tunic of a major in the Fusiliers of the Guard for this audience, while the Grand Duke had lately added to his black frock-coat a pair of dark-red wool mittens, which his aunt had made him to protect him from the draught through the high windows of the Old Schloss.

When Albrecht had finished, Klaus Heinrich stepped one pace sideways, closed his heels with a fresh salute, and said: "I beg, dear Albrecht, to offer my heart-felt and respectful thanks, in my own name and that of the whole country. For it is you in the long run who make all these blessings possible, and the redoubled love of the people will be your reward for your magnanimous resolutions."

He pressed his brother's thin, sensitive hand, which he kept close to his chest, and extended to him only to the extent of moving his forearm. The Grand Duke had thrust forward his short, round underlip, and his eyelids were half-closed. He answered softly with a lisp:

"I am the less inclined to entertain illusions about the people's love, as I can, as you know, dispense with such questionable love without a pang. So question whether I deserve it is scarcely worth notice. When it's time to start, I go to the station and give the signal to the engine-driver, which is silly rather than dutiful, but it's my duty. But you're in a different position. You're a Sunday child. Everything turns out trumps for you.... I wish you luck," he said, raising the lids from his lonely-looking, blue eyes. And it was clear at this moment that he loved Klaus Heinrich. "I wish you happiness, Klaus Heinrich--but not too much, and that you may not repose too comfortably in the love of the people. I have already said that everything turns out trumps for you. The girl of your choice is very strange, very undomesticated, and, most important of all, very original. She has a mixture of blood, I've been told that Indian blood flows in her veins. That's perhaps a good thing. With a wife like that, there's less danger, perhaps, of your having too easy a time."

"Neither happiness," said Klaus Heinrich, "nor the people's love will have the effect of making me cease to be your brother."

He left to face a difficult interview, a _tête-à-tête_ with Mr. Spoelmann, his personal proposal for Imma's hand. He found he had to swallow what his negotiators had swallowed, for Samuel Spoelmann showed not the smallest pleasure and snarled several refreshing truths at him. But it was over at last, and the morning came when the betrothal appeared in the _Gazette_. The long tensions resolved into endless jubilation. Dignified men waved pocket-handkerchiefs at one another, and embraced in the open square: bunting flew from every flag-staff.

But the same day the news reached Schloss "Hermitage," that Raoul Ueberbein had committed suicide.

The story was a vile as well as stupid one, and would not be worth relating had not its end been so horrible. No attempt will be made here to apportion the blame. The Doctor's death gave rise to two opposing factions. One affirmed that he had been driven to take his life owing to the misgivings which his desperate act had evoked: the others declared with a shrug that his conduct was impossible and crazy, and that he had shown all his life a total lack of self-control. The point need not be decided. At any rate nothing justified so tragic an end; indeed, a man with the gifts of Raoul Ueberbein deserved something better than ruin.... Here is the story.

At Easter the year before the professor in charge of the top class but one at our Grammar School, who suffered from heart-weakness, had been temporarily retired on the ground of his illness, and Doctor Ueberbein, notwithstanding his comparative youth, had been given the first vacant chair simply in view of his professional zeal and his undeniably remarkable success in a lower class. It was a happy experiment, as events proved; the class had never done so well as this year. The professor on leave, a popular man with his colleagues, had become a peevish as well as careless and indolent man as the result of his infirmity, with which was combined a sociable but immoderate inclination for beer. He had shut his eyes to details and had sent up every year an extremely badly prepared batch of pupils into the Select. A new spirit had come into the class with the temporary professor, and nobody was surprised at it. People knew his uncomfortable professional zeal, his single-minded and never-resting energy. They foresaw that he would not miss such an opportunity for self-advancement, round which he had doubtless built ambitious hopes.

So an end had soon been put to laziness and boredom in the second class. Dr. Ueberbein had pitched his expectations high, and his skill in inspiring even the most recalcitrant had proved irresistible. The boys worshipped him. His superior, fatherly, and jolly, swaggering way kept them on the alert, shook them up, and made them feel it a point of honour to follow their teacher through thick and thin. He won their hearts by going for Sunday excursions with them, when they were allowed to smoke, while he bewitched their imaginations by boyishly conceived rodomontades about the greatness and severity of public life. And on Monday the members of yesterday's expedition would meet for work in a cheerful and eager frame of mind.

Three-quarters of the school year had thus passed, when the news went round, before Christmas, that the professor on leave, now fairly strong again, would resume his duties after the holidays, and would again act as professor of the second class. And now it came out what sort of man Doctor Ueberbein was, with his green complexion and superior manner. He objected and remonstrated; he lodged a vigorous and, in form, not incontestable protest against the class with which he had spent three-quarters of the year, and whose work and recreation he had shared up to the very mouth of the goal, being taken from its professor for the last quarter and restored to the official who had spent three-quarters of the year on leave. His action was intelligible and comprehensible, and one must sympathize with it. He had undoubtedly hoped to send up a model class to the head master, who taught the Select, a class whose forwardness would put his skill in the best light and would hasten his promotion; and it must grieve him to look forward to another's reaping the fruits of his devotion. But though his disgust might be excusable, his frenzy was not: and it is an unfortunate fact that, when the head master proved deaf to his representations, he became simply frenzied. He lost his head, he lost all balance, he set heaven and hell to work to prevent this loafer, this alcohol-heart, this blankety-blank, as he did not hesitate to describe the professor on leave, from taking his class from him. And when he found no support among his colleagues, as was natural in the case of so unsociable a man, the poor wretch had so far forgotten himself as to incite the pupils entrusted to him to rebel.

He had put the question to them from his desk--Whom do you want for your master for the last quarter, me or that other fellow? And, wound up by his stirring appeal, they had shouted that they wanted him. Then, he said, they must take matters into their own hands, show their colours, and act as one boy--though goodness knows what in his excitement he meant by that. But when after the holidays the returned professor entered the class-room, they screamed Doctor Ueberbein's name at him for minutes on end--and there was a fine scandal.

It was kept as quiet as possible. The revolutionaries got off almost unpunished, as Doctor Ueberbein himself put on record, at the inquiry which was at once initiated, his appeal to them. As to the Doctor himself, too, the authorities seemed generally inclined to close their eyes to what had happened. His zeal and skill were highly valued, certain learned works, the fruits of his mighty industry, had made his name known, he was popular in high quarters--quarters, be it noticed, with which he personally did not come into contact, and which therefore he could not incense by his patronizing bearing. Further, his record as tutor of Prince Klaus Heinrich weighed in the scales. In short, he was not simply dismissed, as one might have expected him to be. The President of the Grand Ducal Council of Education, before whom the matter came, administered a grave reprimand to him, and Doctor Ueberbein, who had stopped teaching directly after the scandal, was provisionally retired. But people who knew declared later that nothing was intended beyond the professor's transfer to another grammar school; that in high quarters the only wish was to hush up the whole business, and that the promise of a brilliant future had been actually extended to the Doctor. Everything would have turned out all right.

But the milder the authorities showed themselves towards the Doctor, the more hostile was the attitude of his colleagues towards him. The "Teachers' Union" at once established a court of honour, whose object was to secure satisfaction for their beloved member, the alcohol-hearted professor rejected of his pupils. The written statement laid before Ueberbein in his retirement in his lodgings ran as follows: Whereas Ueberbein had resisted the return of the colleague for whom he acted to the professorship of the second class; whereas further he had agitated against him and in the end had actually incited the pupils to insubordination against him, he had been guilty of disloyal conduct to his colleague of such a kind as must be considered dishonourable not only in a professional, but also in a general sense. That was the verdict. The expected result was that Doctor Ueberbein, who had only been a nominal member of the "Teachers' Union," withdrew his membership--and there, so many thought, he might well have let the matter rest.

But whether it was that in his seclusion he did not know the goodwill he inspired in higher quarters; that he thought his prospects more hopeless than they were; that he could not stand idleness, unreconciled as he was to the premature loss of his beloved class; that the expression "dishonourable" poisoned his blood, or that his mind was not strong enough to stand all the shocks it received at this time: five weeks after the New Year his landlady found him on the thread-bare carpet of his room, no greener than usual, but with a bullet through his heart.

Such was the end of Raoul Ueberbein, such his false step, such the cause of his fall. "I told you so," was the burden of all the discussions of his pitiful break-down. The quarrelsome and uncongenial man, who had never been a man amongst men at his club, who had haughtily resisted familiarity, and had ordered his life cold-bloodedly with a view to results alone, and had supposed that that gave him the right to patronize the whole world--there he lay now: the first hitch, the first obstacle in the field of accomplishment, had brought him to a miserable end. Few of the bourgeois regretted, none of them mourned him--with one single exception, the chief surgeon at the Dorothea Hospital, Ueberbein's congenial friend, and perhaps a fair lady with whom he used once to play Casino. But Klaus Heinrich always cherished an honourable and cordial memory of his ill-fated tutor.

IX

THE ROSE-BUSH

And Spoelmann financed the state. The outlines of the transaction were bold and clear; a child could have understood them--and as a fact beaming fathers explained it to their children, as they dangled them on their knees.

Samuel Spoelmann nodded, Messrs. Phlebs and Slippers got to work, and his mighty orders flashed under the waves of the Atlantic to the Continent of the Western Hemisphere. He withdrew a third of his share from the Sugar trust, a quarter from the Petroleum trust, and half from the Steel trust; he had his floating capital paid in to accounts in his name in several banks over here; and he bought from Herr Krippenreuther at par 350,000,000 new 3½ per cent. consols at one stroke. That is what Spoelmann did.

He who knows by experience the influence of the state of mind on the human organs will believe that Dr. Krippenreuther cheered up and in a short time was unrecognizable. He carried himself upright and free, his walk was springy, the yellow look faded from his face, which became red and white, his eyes flashed, and his stomach regained its powers in a few months to such an extent that his friends were delighted to observe that the Minister could give himself up to the enjoyment of blue cabbage and gherkin salad with impunity. That was one pleasant though purely personal result of Spoelmann's interference in our finances, which was of but slight account in comparison with the effects which that interference had on our public and economic life.

A part of the loan was devoted to the sinking fund, and troublesome public debts were paid off. But this was scarcely needed to secure us breathing space and credit on every side; for no sooner was it known, for all the secrecy with which the matter was treated officially, that Samuel Spoelmann had become the State banker, in fact if not in name, than the skies cleared up above us and all our need was changed into joy and rapture. There was an end to the scare-selling of active debts, the customary rate of interest dropped, our written promises were eagerly sought after as investments, and each twenty-four hours saw a rise in the quotation of our high-interest loan from a deplorably low figure up to above par. The pressure, the nightmare which for decades had weighed down our national finances, was removed; Doctor Krippenreuther puffed out his chest and spoke in the Landtag in favour of all-round reduction in taxation. This was adopted unanimously, and the antediluvian meat tax was finally buried amid the rejoicings of all those who cared for their fellow-men.

A distinct improvement in the pay of the Civil Service, and in the salaries of teachers, clergymen, and all State functionaries was readily voted. Means were now available for restarting the closed-down silver-mines; several hundred workmen were given work, and productive veins were unexpectedly struck. Money, money was forthcoming, the standard of economic morality rose; the forests were replanted, the litter was left in the woods, the stock-owners no longer were compelled to sell their milk, they drank it themselves, and the critics would have sought in vain for ill-nourished peasants in the fields. The nation showed gratitude towards their rulers, who had brought so boundless a blessing to land and people.

Herr von Knobelsdorff needed but few words to induce Parliament to increase the Crown subsidy. The orders for the putting up for sale of the Schlosses "Pastime" and "Favourite" were cancelled. Skilled workmen invaded the Old Schloss, to instal central heating from top to bottom. Our agents in the negotiations with Spoelmann, von Bühl and Dr. Krippenreuther, received the Grand Cross of the Albrechts Order in brilliants; the Finance Minister was also ennobled, and Herr von Knobelsdorff was made happy with a life-size portrait of the exalted couple--painted by the skilful hand of old Professor von Lindemann and exquisitely framed.

After the betrothal the people gave rein to their fancy in calculating the dowry which Imma Spoelmann was to receive from her father. It made them giddy; they were possessed by a mad desire to scatter figures of truly astronomical dimensions about. But the dowry did not exceed an earthly figure, comfortably big though it was. It amounted to a hundred million.

"Gracious!" said Ditlinde zu Ried-Hohenried, when she first heard it. "And my dear Philipp with his peat." Many another had the same thought; but Spoelmann's daughter allayed the nervous anger which might arise in simple hearts in face of such monstrous wealth, for she did not forget to do good and share her good fortune, and on the very day of the public betrothal she gave a sum of 500,000 marks, the yearly interest on which was to be divided among the four county councils for charitable and generally useful purposes.

Klaus Heinrich and Imma drove in one of Spoelmann's olive-coloured, red-cushioned motors on a round of visits to the members of the House of Grimmburg. A young chauffeur drove the sumptuous car--the one in which Imma had found a likeness to Klaus Heinrich. But his nervous tension was but small on this trip, for he had to restrain the motor's giant strength so far as possible and go slowly--so closely were they surrounded by admiring crowds; for as the more remote authors of our happiness, Grand Duke Albrecht and Samuel Spoelmann, each in his own fashion, concealed themselves from the crowd, the latter heaped all its love and gratitude on the heads of the exalted couple. Boys could be seen through the plate glass of the motor throwing their caps in the air, the shouts of men and women came surging in, clear and shrill, and Klaus Heinrich, his hand to his helmet, said admonishingly: "You must respond too, Imma, to your side, otherwise they'll think you cold."

They drove to Princess Katharine's, and were received with dignity. In the time of Grand Duke Johann Albrecht, her brother, said the aunt to her nephew, it would never have been allowed. But the times moved fast, and she prayed Heaven that his betrothed would accustom herself to the Court. They proceeded to Princess zu Ried-Hohenried's, and there it was love she met with. Ditlinde's Grimmburg pride found comfort in the assurance that Leviathan's daughter might become Princess of the Grand Ducal House and Royal Highness, but could never be Grand Ducal Princess like herself; for the rest, she was overjoyed that Klaus Heinrich had rummaged out for himself anything so sweet and precious. As the wife of Philipp with his peat, she had the best reasons for knowing how to value the advantages of the match, and cordially welcomed her sister-in-law to her arms.

They drove too to Prince Lambert's villa, and while the Countess-bride struggled to keep up a conversation with the dazzling but very uneducated Baroness von Rohrdorf, the old petticoat-hunter congratulated his nephew in his sepulchral voice on the unprejudiced choice he had made, and on so boldly snapping his fingers at Court and Highness. "I am not snapping my fingers at my Highness, uncle; not only have I had an eye to my own happiness in no inconsiderable measure, but I have acted throughout with the Mass, the Whole, in view," said Klaus Heinrich rather rudely; whereupon they broke off, and drove to Schloss "Segenhaus," where Dorothea, the poor Dowager, held her dreary Court. She cried as she kissed the young bride on the forehead, without knowing why she did so.

Meanwhile Samuel Spoelmann sat at Delphinenort surrounded with plans and sketches of furniture and silk carpet-patterns, and drawings of gold plate. He left his organ untouched, and forgot the stone in his kidney, and got quite red cheeks from merely having so much to do; for however small the opinion he had formed of "the young man," or the hope he held out of his ever being seen at Court, yet his daughter was going to be married, and he wanted the arrangements to be worthy of his means. The plans had to do with the new Schloss "Hermitage," for Klaus Heinrich's bachelor quarters were to be razed to the ground, and a new Schloss built on its site, roomy and bright and decorated, by Klaus Heinrich's wish, in a mixture of Empire and modern styles, combining cool severity with homely comfort. Mr. Spoelmann appeared one morning in person, after drinking the waters in the spa-garden, in his faded great-coat at the "Hermitage," in order to find out whether this or that piece of furniture could be used for the new Schloss. "Let's see, young Prince, what you've got," he snarled, and Klaus Heinrich showed him everything in his sober room--the thin sofas, the stiff-legged tables, the white-enamelled tables in the corners.

"Gimcrack," said Mr. Spoelmann, "no use for anything." Three arm-chairs only in the little yellow room, of heavy mahogany, with snail-shaped convolute arms and the yellow covers embroidered with blue lyres, found favour in his eyes.

"We can put those in an ante-room," he said, and Klaus Heinrich was relieved that these arm-chairs should be contributed to the furnishing by the Grimmburg side; for of course it would have been rather painful to him if Mr. Spoelmann had had to find every single thing.

But the ragged park and flower-garden at the "Hermitage" had to be cleared and restocked; the flower-garden in particular was honoured with a special ornament which Klaus Heinrich had asked his brother to give him as a wedding-present. For it was arranged that the rose-bush from the Old Schloss should be transplanted to the big middle bed in front of the approach; and then, no longer surrounded by mouldy walls, but in the air and sunshine and the stiffest clay obtainable, it should be seen what sort of roses it could bear in future--and give the lie to the popular report, if it were obstinate and arrogant enough.

And when March and April had passed, May came, bringing the great event of Klaus Heinrich's and Imma's marriage. It was a glorious day, with golden clouds in the sky, and its dawn was greeted by a choir from the town-hall tower. The people streamed in on foot and in carts, that fair, thick-set, healthy, reliable stock with blue, meditative eyes and broad, high cheek-bones, dressed in the handsome national dress--the men in red jackets, top-boots, and broad-brimmed black-velvet hats, the women in brightly embroidered bodices, thick, wide skirts, and big black veils as a head-dress. They joined the throng of town-folk in the streets between the Spa-Garden and the Old Schloss, which had been transformed into a processional route with garlands and wreathed stands and white-enamelled poles covered with flowers.

Banners of the Trades Unions, rifle-corps, and gymnastic associations began early in the morning to be carried through the streets. The fire brigade turned out in gleaming helmets. The officers of the Corps of Students drove round in open landaus in full state with banners flying. Maids of Honour in white, with rose-twined staves, stood about in groups. The offices and factories were deserted, the schools closed, festival services were held in the churches. And the morning editions of the _Courier_ and _Gazette_ contained, in addition to cordial leading articles, the announcement of a comprehensive amnesty, in pursuance of which cancellation or remission of sentence was granted to several prisoners by the grace of the Grand Duke. Even the murderer Gudebus, who had been condemned to death, and then to penal servitude for life, was released on ticket of leave. But he soon had to be put back into prison again.

Two o'clock was the hour fixed for the City Council's luncheon in the hall of the Museum, with an orchestra and telegrams of respectful congratulations. But the public made merry outside the gates, with fried chips and currant-loaf, a fair, lucky-booths and shooting galleries, sack-races, and men's climbing competitions for treacle cakes. And then came the moment when Imma Spoelmann drove from Delphinenort to the Old Schloss. She did so in processional pomp.

The banners fluttered in the spring breeze, the thick garlands, interwoven with red roses, stretched from one pole to another, the crowd was packed in a black mass on the balconies, roofs, and steps; and between the fences of rifle-corps and firemen, guilds, unions, students, and school-children, the bridal procession advanced slowly amid tumultuous uproar along the sand-strewn road. Two out-riders in laced hats and shoulder-knots, preceded by a moustachioed equerry in a three-cornered hat, came first. Then came a four-horsed carriage, in which the Grand Ducal Commissary, an official of the Board of Green Cloth, who had been deputed to fetch the bride, rode with a chamberlain. Next a second four-horsed carriage, in which sat the Countess Löwenjoul, looking askance at the two maids of honour in the carriage with her, whose morals she mistrusted. Then came ten postilions on horseback, in yellow breeches and blue coats, who played: "We wind for thee the maiden's wreath." Then twelve girls in white, who strewed roses and sprigs of arbor vitæ on the road.

And lastly, followed by fifty master-mechanics on powerful horses, the six-horsed transparent bridal coach. The red-faced coachman in the laced hat proudly extended his gaitered legs on the high white-velvet box, holding the reins with arms similarly extended; grooms in top-boots walked at the head of each pair of horses, and two lackeys stood behind the creaking carriage in great state, showing in their impenetrable faces no signs that plotting and underhand dealing were part of their daily life. Behind the glass and gilded window-frames sat Imma Spoelmann in veil and wreath, with an old Court lady as lady of honour at her side. Her dress of shimmering silk glittered like snow in the sunshine, and on her lap she held the white bouquet which Prince Klaus Heinrich had sent her an hour before. Her strangely childlike face was as pale as an ocean-pearl, and a smooth wisp of dark hair fell across her forehead under the veil, while her big black eyes threw glances of pleading eloquence over the close-packed throng. And what was that din, that barking close by the coach-door? It was Percival, the collie, more beside himself than anyone had ever seen him. The confusion and the slow pace at which the procession went excited him beyond measure, robbed him of all self-restraint, and convulsed him almost beyond bearance. He raged, he danced, he leaped, he circled blindly round and round in the intoxication of his nerves, and the shouts redoubled in the balconies and street and on the roofs on both sides as the people recognized him.

That is how Imma Spoelmann drove to the Old Schloss, and the boom and buzz of the bells mingled with the cheers of the people and Percival's mad bark. The procession crossed the Albrechtsplatz at a walk and went through the Albrechtstor. In the Courtyard of the Schloss the mounted corps of the guilds rode to one side, and took up their position as a guard of honour, and in the corridor, in front of the weather-beaten front door, Grand Duke Albrecht, dressed as a Colonel of Hussars, received the bride with his brother and the rest of his House, offered her his arm and conducted her up the grey stone steps into the state-rooms, at whose doors guards of honour were posted and in which the Court was assembled. The princesses of the House stayed in the Hall of the Knights, and it was there that Herr von Knobelsdorff, surrounded by the Grand Ducal family, executed the civil marriage. Never, it was said later, had the wrinkles played round his eyes more lively than whilst he joined Klaus Heinrich and Imma Spoelmann in civil wedlock. When this was over, Albrecht II commanded that the church festivities should begin.

Herr von Bühl zu Bühl had done his best to get together an imposing procession--the bridal procession, which passed up Heinrich the Luxurious's staircase and along a covered way into the Court Chapel. Stooping under the weight of years, yet in a brown toupée and with a youthful waddle, he marched, covered with orders down to his waist and planting his long staff in front of him, in front of the chamberlains, who walked along in silk stockings with their feather hats under their arms and a key embroidered on their coat-tails. The young pair drew near; the foreign-looking bride in a shimmer of white and Klaus Heinrich, the Heir Presumptive, in a Grenadier uniform with the yellow ribbon across his chest and back. Four maidens belonging to the nobility of the land, with demure looks, carried Imma Spoelmann's train, accompanied by Countess Löwenjoul, who looked suspiciously out of the corners of her eyes. Behind the bridegroom walked Herr von Schulenburg-Tressen and Herr von Braunbart-Schellendorf. The Master of the Royal Hunt, von Stieglitz, and the ballet-loving Grand Duke walked in front of the young monarch, who sucked quietly at his upper lip. At his side came Aunt Catherine, followed by the Minister of the Household, von Knobelsdorff, the Adjutant, the princely zu Ried-Hohenried couple, and the remaining members of the House. The rear of the procession was brought up by more chamberlains.

Inside the Court Chapel, which was decorated with plants and draperies, the invited guests had awaited the procession. There were diplomats with their wives, the Court and county nobility, the corps of officers in the capital, the Ministers, amongst them the beaming face of Herr von Krippenreuther, the Knights of the Grand Order of the Grimmburg Griffin, the Presidents of the Landtag, and all sorts of dignitaries. And as the Lord Marshal had ordered invitations to be sent to every class of society, the seats were filled with tradesmen, countrymen, and simple artisans with hearts attuned to the event. In front of the altar the relations of the bridegroom took their places in a semicircle in red-velvet arm-chairs. The voices of the choir rang pure and sweet under the vaulted ceiling, and then the whole congregation sang a hymn of thanksgiving with full organ accompaniment. When it died away, the musical voice of the President of the High Consistory, Dom Wislezenus, was heard, as with his silver hair, and a convex star on his silk gown, he stood before the exalted pair and preached an eloquent sermon. He built it on a theme, to borrow a musical expression. And the theme was the passage from the Psalms which runs: "He shall live, and unto him shall be given of the gold of Arabia." There was not a dry eye left in the chapel.

Then Dom Wislezenus completed the marriage, and at the moment when the bridal pair exchanged rings, fanfares of trumpets blared forth, and a salvo of three times twelve guns began to roll over city and country-side, fired by the soldiers on the wall of the "Citadel." Directly afterwards the fire brigade let off the town guns by way of salute; but long pauses occurred between each detonation, giving rise to inexhaustible laughter among the people.

After the blessing had been pronounced, the procession re-formed and returned to the Hall of the Knights, where the House of Grimmburg congratulated the newly married pair. Then came the Court, and Klaus Heinrich and Imma Spoelmann walked arm-in-arm through the Gala Rooms, where the Court was drawn up, and spoke to various members of the company, smiling across an interval of shining parquet; and Imma pouted and wagged her head as she spoke to anyone who curtsied low and answered deferentially. After the Court there was a State supper in the Marble Hall, and a Marshal's supper in that of the Twelve Months, and everything was of the best that money could buy, out of regard to what Klaus Heinrich's wife had been accustomed to. Even Percival, now restored to his senses, was among the guests, and was given some roast meat. After supper the students and the populace had arranged in honour of the young couple a demonstration with serenades and a torchlight procession on the Albrechtsplatz. The square outside was a blaze of light, and resounded with shouts.

Lackeys drew aside the curtains from one of the windows in the Silver Hall, and Klaus Heinrich and Imma advanced to the open window. They threw it open, and stood in the opening just as they were, for outside it was a warm spring night. Next them, in a dignified attitude and looking most imposing, sat Percival, the collie, and looked down like his mistress.

Several of the town bands played in the illuminated square, which was packed tight with human beings, and the upturned faces of the people were lighted to a smoky dark red by the students' torches as they marched past the Schloss. Cheers broke forth when the newly married couple appeared at the window. They bowed their thanks, and then stayed there awhile, looking and letting themselves be looked at. The people, looking up, could see their lips moving in conversation. This is what they said:

"Listen, Imma, how thankful they are that we have not forgotten their need and affliction. What crowds there are, standing there and shouting up to us! Of course many of them are scoundrels, and take each other in, and sadly need to be elevated above the work-day and its reality. But they are really grateful when one shows oneself conscious of their need and affliction."

"But we are so stupid and so lonely, Prince--on the peaks of humanity, as Doctor Ueberbein used always to say--and we know absolutely nothing of life."

"Nothing, little Imma? What was it, then, which at last gave you confidence in me, and brought us to study so practically the public weal? Knows he nothing of life who knows of love? That shall be our business in future: Highness and Love--an austere happiness."

[ Transcriber's Note:

The following is a list of corrections made to the original.
The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.

The Swiss governess was the widow of a Calvanistic minister and was in
The Swiss governess was the widow of a Calvinistic minister and was in

The opportunity came. While the Swiss governness was absent on leave to
The opportunity came. While the Swiss governess was absent on leave to

where it's too dusty, for this dress shows everything.
where it's too dusty, for this dress shows everything."

compared with Trümmerhauff. Trümmerhauf had the nobility of a wild
compared with Trümmerhauff. Trümmerhauff had the nobility of a wild

rather broad, he had cheek bones like the men in the street, and he
rather broad, he had cheek-bones like the men in the street, and he

annouce that their Royal Highnesses were now going. He had been charged
announce that their Royal Highnesses were now going. He had been charged

exploratory operation, whch was conducted by the Director of the
exploratory operation, which was conducted by the Director of the

Lastly, Princess Ditlande had married at the age of twenty, one year
Lastly, Princess Ditlinde had married at the age of twenty, one year

Albrecht bowed his thanks with eyes downcast and underlip protuded.
Albrecht bowed his thanks with eyes downcast and underlip protruded.

Jettchen, as provisional lodgings."
Jettchen, "as provisional lodgings."

architect from the captital had been entrusted with the building. But
architect from the capital had been entrusted with the building. But

suite" in the "Spa Court" Hotel was by no means dazzingly magnificent.
suite" in the "Spa Court" Hotel was by no means dazzlingly magnificent.

temperature-and weight-charts--tended by nurses in white caps, and
temperature- and weight-charts--tended by nurses in white caps, and

his tail, At the same moment the butler began to run, as fast as his
his tail. At the same moment the butler began to run, as fast as his

upon me, Prince." And she suddenly sat Fatma off at a gallop and flew at
upon me, Prince." And she suddenly set Fatma off at a gallop and flew at