Arms and the Woman

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.

"Is this a jest?" demanded the King.

"No; on my honor." For once I forgot court etiquette, and left off

"Your Majesty."

"Let me see the letter," said the Chancellor, with a pacific purpose.

"There is some misunderstanding here." He read the letter and replaced

it on the table--and went back to his window.

"Well?" cried the King, impatiently.

"I forgot, Your Majesty," said the Chancellor.

"Forgot what?"

"The letter was written by a woman. I remember when I was a boy," went

on the Chancellor tranquilly, "I used to take great pleasure in drawing

pictures on frosted window panes. Women always disturbed me."

"Perhaps, Your Majesty," said I, "it is possible that Her

Highness . . . the likeness between her and her sister . . . perhaps,

knowing that I have known Her Highness Phyllis . . . that is, the

Princess Elizabeth . . . she may believe that I . . ." It was very

embarrassing.

"Continue," said the King. "And please make your sentences

intelligible."

"What I meant to say was that Her Highness the Princess Hildegarde,

believes that I love her sister instead of herself . . . I

thought . . . she has written otherwise . . ." And then I foundered

again.

"Prince," said the King, laughing in spite of his efforts to appear

angry, "for pity's sake, tell me what this man is talking about!"

"A woman," said the Chancellor. "Perhaps Her Highness the Princess

Hildegarde. . . . That is, I believe. . . . She may love this

man . . . perhaps thinking he loves the other. . ." He was mocking

me, and my face burned.

"Prince, do not confuse the man; he is bad enough as it is." The King

smoothed away the remnant of the smile.