"What a Prince!" thought Angelica: "so brave—so calm-looking—so young—what a hero!"
"He is as accomplished as he is brave," continued the Painter. "He knows all languages perfectly: sings deliciously: plays every instrument: composes operas which have been acted a thousand nights running at the Imperial Theatre of Crim Tartary, and danced in a ballet there before the King and Queen; in which he looked so beautiful, that his cousin, the lovely daughter of the King of Circassia, died for love of him."
"Why did he not marry the poor Princess?" asked Angelica, with a sigh.
"Because they were first-cousins, madam, and the clergy forbids these unions," said the Painter. "And, besides, the young Prince had given his royal heart elsewhere."
"And to whom?" asked her Royal Highness.
"I am not at liberty to mention the Princess' name," answered the Painter.
"But you may tell me the first letter of it," gasped out the Princess.
"That your Royal Highness is at liberty to guess," says Lorenzo.
"Does it begin with a Z?" asked Angelica.
The Painter said it wasn't a Z; then she tried a Y; then an X; then a W, and went so backward through almost the whole alphabet.