The two weeks following Beverly Calhoun's advent into the royal

household were filled with joy and wonder for her. Daily she sent

glowing letters to her father, mother and brothers in Washington,

elaborating vastly upon the paradise into which she had fallen. To her

highly emotional mind, the praises of Graustark had been but poorly

sung. The huge old castle, relic of the feudal days, with its turrets

and bastions and portcullises, Impressed her with a never-ending sense

of wonder. Its great halls and stairways, its chapel, the throne-room,

and the armor-closet; its underground passages and dungeons all united

to fill her imaginative soul with the richest, rarest joys of

finance. Simple American girl that she was, unused to the rigorous

etiquette of royalty, she found embarrassment in the first confusion of

events, but she was not long in recovering her poise.

Her apartments were near those of the Princess Yetive. In the private

intercourse enjoyed by these women, all manner of restraint was

abandoned by the visitor and every vestige of royalty slipped from the

princess. Count Halfont and his adorable wife, the Countess Yvonne, both

of whom had grown old in the court, found the girl and her strange

servant a source of wonder and delight.

Some days after Beverly's arrival there came to the castle Harry Anguish

and his wife, the vivacious Dagmar. With them came the year-old cooing

babe who was to overthrow the heart and head of every being in the

household, from princess down. The tiny Dagmar became queen at once, and

no one disputed her rule.

Anguish, the painter, became Anguish, the strategist and soldier. He

planned with Lorry and the ministry, advancing some of the most

hair-brained projects that ever encouraged discussion in a solemn

conclave. The staid, cautious ministers looked upon him with wonder, but

so plausible did he made his proposals appear that they were forced to

consider them seriously. The old Count of Marlanx held him in great

disdain, and did not hesitate to expose his contempt. This did not

disturb Anguish in the least, for he was as optimistic as the

sunshine. His plan for the recapture of Gabriel was ridiculously

improbable, but it was afterwards seen that had it been attempted much

distress and delay might actually have been avoided.

Yetive and Beverly, with Dagmar and the baby, made merry while the men

were in council. Their mornings were spent in the shady park surrounding

the castle, their afternoons in driving, riding and walking. Oftentimes

the princess was barred from these simple pleasures by the exigencies of

her position. She was obliged to grant audiences, observe certain

customs of state, attend to the charities that came directly under her

supervision, and confer with the nobles on affairs of weight and

importance. Beverly delighted in the throne-room and the underground

passages; they signified more to her than all the rest. She was shown

the room in which Lorry had foiled the Viennese who once tried to abduct

Yetive. The dungeon where Gabriel spent his first days of confinement,

the Tower in which Lorry had been held a prisoner, and the monastery in

the clouds were all places of unusual interest to her.




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