"They will do very well," answered the Prince, "except the pictures."
"Some of them certainly are rather improper," acknowledged the Marshal.
"My father would be pleased if you could remove these. When is Professor Werner expected?"
"This evening," replied the Chamberlain. "Perhaps your Highness would wish to receive the guest after his arrival, or to pay him a visit yourself."
"You may ask my father," replied the Prince.
When the Prince went with his companion up the staircase to his own rooms in the castle, the Chamberlain began:
"The Professor's wife was very much pleased once with the flowers which your Highness sent her. May I commission the Court gardener to put some in her room?"
"Do what you think fitting," replied the Prince, coldly.
He entered his apartment, looked behind him to see if he were alone, and went with rapid steps to the window; from thence he looked over the level lawn and the blooming rows of trees to the pavilion. He gazed long through the window, then took a book from the table and seated himself in the corner of the sofa to read; but he laid the book on the table again, paced hastily up and down, and looked at his watch.
The Court dinner was over. The ladies cast a half glance behind them to see if the back-ground was clear for their retiring curtsies. The gentlemen took their hats under their arms. The Marshal approached the door, and held his gold-headed stick with graceful deportment--a sure sign that the royal party was about to break up. The Princess, who was still in mourning, stopped her brother.