"Prince," said the King, "go and finish your window panes."
The Chancellor meekly obeyed.
"This is your answer?" said the King to me.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Then marry the Princess Elizabeth," he said, tossing the missive to me.
"Yes, marry her," said the irrepressible Chancellor; "and some day the
King will put a medal on your breast and make you a baron of the realm.
Your Majesty, come and help me with this last pane."
The Princess Elizabeth? I glanced at the writing on the envelope. It was Gretchen's. "And, Your Majesty," I read, "it is true that they love each other. Permit them to be happy. I ask your forgiveness for all the trouble I have caused you. I promise that from now on I shall be the most obedient subject in all your kingdom. Hildegarde." I dropped the letter on the table.
"Your Majesty," I began nervously, "there is some mistake. I do not love Her Highness the Princess Elizabeth."
The King and his Chancellor whirled around. The decorations on the panes remained unfinished. The King regarded me with true anger, and the Chancellor with dismay.
"I love the Princess Hildegarde," I went on in a hollow voice.