But Sophia Dorothea was mistaken. Bowing low, the king said, with that kindliness of manner which was peculiar to himself: "I will take the very first opportunity of paying your establishment a visit."
Sophia Dorothea was very near fainting; she could stand this scene no longer; and giving herself up entirely to her anger, she was guilty of the same fault which the countess had committed through ignorance. Forgetful of etiquette, she assumed a right which belonged to the reigning king and queen alone. Arising hastily from her seat, she said, impatiently:
"I think it is time we should join the dancers. Do you not find the music very beautiful and enticing? Let us go."
The king smilingly laid his hand on her arm. "You forget, madame, that there is another happy man who longs to bask in the sunshine of your countenance. You forget, madame, that Count Neal is to have the honor of an introduction."
The queen gave her son one of those proud, resigned, and reproachful looks which she had been in the habit of directing toward Frederick William during her wedded life. She felt conquered, humbled, and powerless.
The imperious expression fled from her brow, and found refuge in her eyes only. "And this, too!" murmured she, sinking back on her seat. She barely heard Count Neal's introduction. She acknowledged his respectful greeting with a slight inclination of the head, and remained silent.
The king, who to-day seemed to be in a conciliatory mood, again came to the rescue.
"Madame," said he, "Count Neal is indeed an enviable man; he has seen what we will probably never see. He has been in the lovely, luxurious, and dreamy South; he has seen the sun of India; he was governor of Surinam."
"Pardon me, your majesty," said the count, proudly; "I was not only governor, but vice-regent."
"Ah," said the king, "and what are the prerogatives of a vice-regent?"