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with her hunting train, and had been painted by a pupil of Rubens. The lord steward handed a packet of telegrams to the king, who instructed him to open them, and inform him when they contained anything more than congratulations.
They now sat down to breakfast.
The company was not so cheerful and unconstrained as it had been at the summer palace. Indeed, no one had yet recovered from the excitement of the previous night, and conversation was carried on in a quiet tone.
"Countess Irma," said the king, "I commend Walpurga to you; she will be sure to please you. You will be able to learn some beautiful songs from her, and to teach her new ones."
"Thanks, Your Majesty! If Your Majesty would only deign to order the first lady of the bedchamber to grant me access, at all times, to the apartments of His Royal Highness the crown prince."
"Pray see to it, dear Rittersfeld!" said the king, turning to the lord steward.
Countess Irma, who sat at the lower end of the table, received the congratulations of all. Walpurga had become the sole topic of conversation.
The morning papers were brought to the king. He glanced through them hurriedly and, throwing them aside with an angry air, said:
"This babbling press! The queen's kiss is already in all the newspapers." His face darkened; it was evident that, as the fact itself had displeased him, the publicity given it was doubly annoying. After a time, he said:
"I desire you, gentlemen and ladies, to see to it that the queen does not hear of this." He rose quickly, and left the apartment.
The breakfast party lingered for some time, and the pious lady could now openly join the ranks of the scandalmongers. The mantle of charity was no longer necessary-it was very evident that the king had already tired of his sentimental wife.
If Countess Irma-? Who could tell but what this was part of a deep-laid plan to give her free access to the crown prince's apartments? The king could meet her there-and who knows but that-
They were quite ingenious in the malicious conjectures which they whispered to each other with great caution and circumspection. For a while, at least, Walpurga, the queen and even the crown prince were completely forgotten.
CHAPTER XIII
"There, my boy! Now you've seen the sun. May you see it for seven and seventy years to come, and when they've run their course, may the Lord grant you a new lease of life. Last night, they lit millions of lamps for your sake. But they were nothing to the sun up in heaven, which the Lord himself lighted for you this very morning. Be a good boy, always, so that you may deserve to have the sun shine on you. Yes, now the angel's whispering to you. Laugh while you sleep! That's right. There's one angel belongs to you on earth, and that's your mother! And you're mine, too! You're mine, indeed!"
Thus spake Walpurga, her voice soft, yet full of emotion, while she gazed into the face of the child that lay on her lap. Her soul was already swayed by that mysterious bond of affection which never fails to develop itself in the heart of the foster-mother. It is a noble trait in human nature that we love those on whom we can confer a kindness. Their whole life gradually becomes interwoven with our own.
Walpurga became oblivious of herself and of all that was dear to her in the cottage by the lake. She was now needed here where a young life had been assigned to her loving charge.
She looked up at Mademoiselle Kramer, with beaming eyes, and met a joyful glance in return.
"It seems to me," said Walpurga, "that a palace is just like a church. One has only good and pious thoughts here; and all the people are so kind and frank."
Mademoiselle Kramer suddenly smiled and replied:
"My dear child-"
"Don't call me 'child'! I'm not a child! I'm a mother!"
"But here, in the great world, you are only a child. A court is a strange place. Some go hunting, others go fishing; one builds, another paints; one studies a rôle, another a piece of music; a dancer learns a new step, an author writes a new book. Every one in the land is doing something, – cooking or baking, drilling or practicing, writing, painting, or dancing-simply in order that the king and queen may be entertained."
"I understand you," said Walpurga, and Mademoiselle Kramer continued:
"My family has been in the service of the court for sixteen generations"; – six would have been the right number, but sixteen sounded so much better; – "my father is the governor of the summer palace, and I was born there. I know all about the court, and can teach you a great deal."
"And I'll be glad to learn," interposed Walpurga.
"Do you imagine that every one is kindly disposed toward you? Take my word for it, a palace contains people of all sorts, good and bad. All the vices abound in such a place. And there are many other matters of which you have no idea and of which you will, I trust, ever remain ignorant. But all you meet are wondrous polite. Try to remain just as you now are, and, when you leave the palace, let it be as the same Walpurga you were when you came here."
Walpurga stared at her in surprise. Who could change her?
Word came that the queen was awake and desired Walpurga to bring the crown prince to her.
Accompanied by Doctor Gunther, Mademoiselle Kramer and two waiting-women, she proceeded to the queen's bedchamber. The queen lay there, calm and beautiful, and, with a smile of greeting, turned her face toward those who had entered. The curtains had been partially drawn aside and a broad, slanting ray of light shone into the apartment, which seemed still more peaceful than during the breathless silence of the previous night.
"Good-morning!" said the queen, with a voice full of feeling. "Let me have my child!" She looked down at the babe that rested in her arms and then, without noticing any one in the room, lifted her glance on high and faintly murmured:
"This is the first time I behold my child in the daylight!"
All were silent; it seemed as if there was naught in the apartment except the broad slanting ray of light that streamed in at the window.
"Have you slept well?" inquired the queen. Walpurga was glad that the queen had asked a question, for now she could answer. Casting a hurried glance at Mademoiselle Kramer, she said:
"Yes, indeed! Sleep's the first, the last, and the best thing in the world."
"She's clever," said the queen, addressing Doctor Gunther in French.
Walpurga's heart sank within her. Whenever she heard them speak French, she felt as if they were betraying her; as if they had put on an invisible cap, like that worn by the goblins in the fairy tale, and could thus speak without being seen.
"Did the prince sleep well?" asked the queen.
Walpurga passed her hand over her face, as if to brush away a spider that had been creeping there. The queen doesn't speak of her "child" or her "son," but only of "the crown prince."
Walpurga answered:
"Yes, quite well, thank God! That is, I couldn't hear him, and I only wanted to say that I'd like to act toward the-" she could not say "the prince" – "that is, toward him, as I'd do with my own child. We began right on the very first day. My mother taught me that. Such a child has a will of its own from the very start, and it won't do to give way to it. It won't do to take it from the cradle, or to feed it, whenever it pleases; there ought to be regular times for all those things. It'll soon get used to that, and it won't harm it either, to let it cry once in a while. On the contrary, that expands the chest."
"Does he cry?" asked the queen.
The infant answered the question for itself, for it at once began to cry most lustily.
"Take him and quiet him," begged the queen.
The king entered the apartment before the child had stopped crying.
"He will have a good voice of command," said he, kissing the queen's hand.
Walpurga quieted the child, and she and Mademoiselle Kramer were sent back to their apartments.
The king informed the queen