“Your majesty has called me,” she said, and, after looking around the room, she cast a glance of surprise on the clock.
“Ah, my dear countess, you are surprised that Mr. Himmel, my singing-master, has already left, although the hour has only half expired?” asked the queen, merrily.
“Your majesty,” said the countess, sighing, “I really ought no longer to be surprised at any thing, nor wonder at any violation of etiquette, for such things, unfortunately, occur every day and every hour. Your majesty knows, moreover, that this Mr. Himmel is altogether distasteful to me.”
“And why?” asked the queen, gayly.
“Your majesty, because it is contrary to etiquette for a queen to take lessons, and to have a teacher.”
“What!” exclaimed Louisa. “According to etiquette, then, a queen is not permitted to learn any thing after ascending the throne?”
“No, your majesty, for it is entirely unbecoming that one of your subjects should become the teacher of his queen, and that anybody should be permitted and dare to censure her.”
“Well, do not you do so very often, my dear countess?” asked the queen, good-naturedly.
“I dare not censure the queen, but merely to defend and maintain etiquette, as my duty and official position require me to do. But a queen who takes lessons must descend from her throne so long as her teacher is with her; must renounce her exalted position, and obey instead of commanding. In such a case, therefore, etiquette is altogether out of the question.”
“You are right,” said Louisa, merrily. “Mr. Himmel, the concert-master, at least, entirely coincides with you, and he takes no notice whatever of etiquette. Shall I confess to you, my dear countess, why Mr. Himmel has run away to-day half an hour before the regular time?”