When the whole congregation arose and, in the prayers for the royal household, offered up thanks for her preservation and that of the royal prince, she could no longer restrain her tears.
Contrary to her usual habit, she went to church again that afternoon.
Meanwhile, the king and Countess Irma were pleasantly sauntering in that portion of the park from which the public was shut out.
The king informed Irma of the queen's resolve and of how she had been induced to give it up. Irma replied that she had, long since, surmised as much, but had not felt that she had a right to speak of it. She had dropped a hint to Doctor Gunther, who had refused to have anything to do with the matter.
The king expressed his dislike for Gunther, but Irma defended him with great enthusiasm.
"The doctor is very fortunate," said the king, "to have so eloquent an advocate in his absence."
"I am that to all friends whom I truly respect."
"I could wish that I, too, were accused," continued the king.
"And I believe," replied Irma, smiling, "Your Majesty could not wish for a more earnest advocate than I would be."
A pause ensued. The king gracefully and frankly retracted his complaints against Gunther, and this conversation seemed merely a bridge over which they passed to another topic.