The king and the queen came. The king found Madame Gunther's behavior shy and reserved. He could not know that she still regarded him with suppressed wrath. Was this the man, and ought there really to be one on earth, who could appoint or dismiss Gunther at will? They were standing by the stream that flowed through the garden, when the king said to Gunther:
"I am told that the crown prince's nurse lives in this neighborhood. Will you not have her come here some time?"
"Her majesty the queen does not wish to see her," replied Gunther.
"Do you know why?"
"It lies in the echo of certain sad memories," replied Gunther; and this passing allusion to Irma was the only time she was mentioned. In the short pause that followed these words, the stream murmured louder than before, as if it, too, had something to say.
On the second evening after the king's arrival, Bronnen came, accompanied by the intendant, and found the whole circle happy and complete.
A certain observance of form lent an added charm to country life. With constant freedom, there was yet the protecting presence of the accompanying court circle and servants. Wherever they fixed their resting-place, and wherever they lighted a fire in the forest, for the little prince's amusement, a numerous body of servants was always present, forming a ring to keep off intruding strangers. Paula's manner was calm and composed. Her every movement evinced power and grace. She neither thrust herself forward nor shunned observation. The knowledge that she was in her own home lent charming confidence to her deportment.
During the evening, Gunther's blind nephew, whose appointment as pianist to the queen had been confirmed, played in a masterly manner.
On the following morning he took his first leave of absence, in order, as he said with a smile, to look about the neighborhood and visit old acquaintances.
The king prepared to go hunting.