the various emotions which these employments must necessarily occasion, render it out of the question. A high state of development has effects upon the nervous system, which effects, being transmitted to the child, must cling to it for life."
"I beg you, dear Mathilde," added the king, "to avoid distressing yourself. Consider the prince's welfare."
"Don't always talk of a prince. Promise me that you will be just as happy, if it be a princess--"
"Just as happy! No, that were impossible. I can't control my feelings to that extent. But this I can promise you--if you and the child are well, I shall be happy for all."
"Well, then, let a nurse be brought:--even now, I envy her the child's affectionate glances and hearty caresses!"
"And what is the sorrow you were complaining of?"
"The thought of depriving another child of its mother troubles my conscience. Even if thousands have done the same thing time and time again, he who commits a wrong, sins for himself and as deeply as if it were the first time the sin were ever committed. Yet, I submit. But I shall insist on one thing: the foster-mother of my child must be an honest married woman and must belong to a respectable family. I could never silence my conscience if I were to deprive a child, already wretched enough, of its all--its mother! In this I am perfectly indifferent to worldly regulations and prescribed forms. Is the poor, forlorn child, born into a hostile world, to be robbed of the only source of love yet left it? And even if we take an honest married woman, we will be depriving a child of its mother and inflicting an injury upon a being that we do not even know. Ah! how hard it is! In spite of our knowing better, we are yet forced to commit wrong. However, I shall submit to necessity. But the child that we take from its mother will be cared for by her family, has a father and, perhaps, even a kind grandmother and affectionate brothers and sisters. A hospitable roof will shelter its infant head--"
"Your Majesty," exclaimed the doctor, with an outburst of enthusiasm, "at this very moment prayers are being offered up for you in thousands of churches, and myriad voices are saying: 'Amen'!"
"Great God, what duties are thus imposed! One had needs be more than human to bear the charge--it crushes me to the earth."
"It should elevate instead of depressing you. At this very moment the breath issuing from millions of lips forms a cloud that supports you. True humanity is best shown when those who are prosperous and happy and therefore need no assistance from others, protect the suffering instead of putting them away from them. The effect of such a mood upon the child whose heart throbs beneath that of its mother is one of nature's mysteries. This child must needs become a noble, beautiful being, for its mother has instilled purest philanthropy into it before its birth."
The king, who had taken the queen's hand in his, now said:
"And so you really know nothing of the law. It isn't merely a family law that the princes and princesses of our house must be born in the royal palace--and for which reason, we shall return to the city to-morrow--but it is also a law of the court that the nurse of a prince must be a married woman."
"Great Heavens! And how I've been tormenting myself. In the future I shall think better of the customs of the Court, since I find there are such beautiful ones among them."
"From the depths of your soul. Your Majesty has given new life to this law," interposed the doctor, "a law is neither free nor sacred until it has become a living truth to us."
"Very pretty, and true besides," said the King. He dropped his cigar, and after looking for it for a little while, said: "Excuse me, doctor, but wouldn't you be kind enough to have cigars brought for us?"
The doctor went into the house and, after he had left, the King said:
"Pray tell me, Mathilde, was that all that troubled you? I have, for some time past, observed that there's something on your mind--"
"Yes, there is something on my mind, but I can't speak of it, until it becomes an actual truth. It's nothing but love for you; pray don't ask me more at present. You'll soon know all."
When the doctor returned, he found the king alone, and sitting under the ash. The queen had withdrawn.
"Was the compliment you've just paid the Queen prompted by professional considerations?" asked the king, with lowering eye.
"No, Your Majesty. I spoke sincerely and from conviction."
The king remained silent for a long time, his eyes resting on the ground. At last he arose and, moving his hand as if putting something far away from him, said:
"Well, the queen wishes the nurse to be a young woman from the Highlands and of a respectable family. Is there time enough left for you to journey there and select one? Are you not a native of the Highlands? That were--but no, you must not go now. Send Doctor Sixtus; give him precise instructions, and let him go from village to village. He can propose several and you can select the best of them; the others can be sent home with a gratuity, and--but act on your own judgment; only, don't fail to send the doctor off this very day."
"Your Majesty's wishes shall be obeyed."
CHAPTER II.
"How radiant you look!" said Countess Irma, as she met the doctor.
"Perhaps I do," he replied, "for I've just beheld that divine sight,--a heart overflowing with pure love of its fellow-beings;--but excuse me for a moment!" he said, interrupting himself and leaving the countess, while he went into an adjoining apartment and dispatched a telegram to Doctor Sixtus, instructing him to prepare himself for an eight days' journey, and to come to the summer palace forthwith. He then returned to the countess, to whom he gave an account of what had happened.
"Shall I tell you what I think?" asked the countess.
"You know very well that none dare say you 'nay'."
"Well, then, I can't help thinking that it was far better in olden times; for then royal children were born in some lonely, out-of-the-way palace, as quietly as if it were to be kept a secret--"
The doctor interrupted her: "You are indeed a true child of your father. For, although my dear friend Eberhard was full of strange fancies during his younger years, he would at times manifest sudden and surprising diffidence."
"Ah, do tell me of my father! I know so little about him."
"I've known nothing of him for many years. Of course you know that he has broken with me, because I am at court; but, in the olden times, in our youthful, enthusiastic days--"
"Then you, too, were once enthusiastic!"
"I was; but not to so great a degree as your father. When I see you, it seems as if his ideal had become realized. In those days, when I was a young army surgeon, and he a still younger officer, we would indulge in fantasy pictures of the future, and what it might have in store for us. He never thought of a beloved one, or a wife, but would at one bound, as it were, clear all that lay between, and indulge himself with brain pictures of a child; a daughter, fresh, tender and lovely beyond comparison. And now, when I behold you, I look upon his ideal."
"And so my father's only ideal was a child?" asked Irma with pensive air, and looking earnestly into the doctor's eyes, "and yet for all that, he left his children to grow up among strangers, and all that I know of him I am obliged to learn from the lips of others. But I don't care to speak of myself at present, dear doctor. I have a presentiment of the queen's secret. I think I know what makes her so quiet and reserved."
"My dear child," said the doctor, "if you really have a presentiment,--and that, moreover, in regard to a secret of their majesties--take my advice: Don't impart it to any one, not even to the pillow on which you lay your head at night."
"But if your knowing would be of service to the queen? You ought to be her guide."
"We